


Black and White

by Maraudererasmut



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Artists, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Art, Art within a fic, Don't worry James I also hate Jeff Koons, Drinking, Gallery Owner Sirius, I love the idea of francophone Sirius, M/M, Painting, Remus' art, So I will try to be consistent with updates if I can be!, Starving Artist, TW: drinking, This fic contains art!, This is just me sharing my love of French, artist!Remus, black and white, but the story is on going!, nb characters, non-binary characters, on-going, sometimes I forget to update on here, tw: alcoholism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2020-12-27 20:11:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 42,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21124553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maraudererasmut/pseuds/Maraudererasmut
Summary: Remus, a young artist with nothing to lose, decides to attend a gallery opening in the hopes that he can get a foot in the door of the contemporary art scene. When he happens to bump into a charming stranger with a penchant for socializing, he finds himself thrust into a completely different world: The world of high-society and wealthy art collectors.(On-going, rating may change as fic progresses)





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a little one-off drabble that I wrote for Tumblr and has turned into something COMPLETELY different! Despite wanting to work on different things, my mind keeps coming back to this fic! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it as much as I love writing it!

"Starving Artist"

It wasn't a term unfamiliar to Remus. After all, he was an artist and he did struggle to make end's meet. 

It was the same term his father tossed at him when Remus had wanted to go to London College of Art and Design instead of working at the autobody shop with his dad. 

_ "What's wrong with earning an honest living, Remus? Why can't you just do your hobby in your spare time?" _

That's what really broke Remus' heart. Not believing in his talents, he understood. Remus hardly ever believed in himself anyway. Not wanting Remus to live a life of poverty, that made sense. Nobody wants their only child to struggle to put food on the table. But calling what Remus did a hobby? That was a blow to Remus' heart that he couldn't withstand.

Art had never been a hobby to Remus.

Remus didn't paint because it relaxed him, he didn't paint because he enjoyed it, he didn't paint because it was fun or entertaining. Remus painted because he  _ had _ to. He painted because if he didn't, he felt incomplete, empty. Remus needed his art the same way he needed food and air. He thirsted for it, felt it tearing at his insides. Days where Remus didn't approach a canvas and pick up a brush were excruciating, he was left broken and starved. Remus' art was never his hobby, it was his everything.

Remus knew he'd never be allowed to pursue the life he needed while he lived at home, so he took a job, then another, then another, until he was able to afford the run-down basement flat that he lived in: a single room that was his and his alone. It was filled with canvases and easels, three or four works going simultaneously. Tubes of paint littered the ground, pallets and brushes scattered about amongst half filled jars of dirty water. There was a single bed pushed into the corner, covered entirely with books during the day. There was no kitchen, only a hotplate, a microwave, and a mini refrigerator that served its purpose well enough. Remus knew that this was the life he chose. He knew that this was the cost of following his heart. 

One particularly soggy London day, when the sky threatened to soak Remus' only pair of shoes to their very core, Remus returned to his flat after an excruciating shift at the cafe. He had been on his feet the entire time, serving coffee to wealthier people than him, smiling through his frustration. As Remus slipped off his sneakers, he reached into his pocket and grabbed the handful of change that made up his tips, tossing it into the jar that sat on the table by the door.

The jar was getting fuller by the day, but Remus knew it wasn't enough. It took his entire paycheck to be able to afford his flat and his food, so saving up his tips was all he could do to eventually pay for LCAD. 

Remus dragged himself over to his bed and flopped down beside a pile of art books that wobbled precariously from his movement. With a weary sigh, he kicked off his shoes and forced himself to sit up. Back against the wall, laptop on his thighs, Remus began the arduous task of looking for gallery shows and openings. He had promised himself to go to at least one opening a week, ideally more. The more gallery shows he went to, the more elbows he rubbed, the better the chance that he would meet somebody who could help kick start his career. 

_ Black and White _

The name sounded familiar.

_ Grand Opening of Black and White _

The opening was that evening.

_ Sirius Black, son the illustrious Orion and Walburga Black, is following in his parents' footsteps as a curator of magnificent works of beauty. _

_ "My aim is to juxtapose the frailty of the human condition with the dichotomy of gender normative notions through an exploration of the boundaries of art, with a particular emphasis on the arbitrary line that exists between painting and sculpture." _

_ Please join us for an unforgettable evening as Black reveals the first collection to be housed in the gallery:  _ Foreshadow _ . _

_ Gallery will be open from 6:00 PM - 8:00 PM. Wine and light refreshments will be served.  _

Remus sniggered to himself at the ridiculous quote from Sirius Black that was included in the description. There were a lot of words not saying anything if particular importance. Leave it to a gallerist to come up with the longest string of nonsense possible. 

At least there would be food. Remus was grateful for the free refreshments; it meant not having to use what little money he had on dinner.

The artist grabbed his phone and checked the time before letting out a groan and rolling out of bed. He needed to change into presentable clothing before heading to the gallery, which was a half-hour walk from his home. There was no time to rest beforehand, he would have to make do with caffeine and resilience. 

  
  



	2. Part II

Remus stood in front of a piece of art, plate in hand, filled with cubes of cheese and assorted crackers. He stared intently at the brushstrokes, the way they danced across the canvas, the texture of the paint. There was intention to every stroke, every line, every point where the brush kissed the canvas. It was purposeful.

"What do you think of it?"

Remus glanced to the side, where a young man in an expensive looking suit had sidled in beside him. Remus raised an eyebrow and smiled politely, taking in the man's appearance. He had rich mahogany skin, almost a burnt umber. It took a cool tone in the stark gallery lighting, but had a hint of redness just beneath the surface. The man had dark hair, a warm black, just a shade lighter than his suit. He was wearing a burgundy tie with yellow ochre stripes, matching his completion perfectly. He had red-framed glasses that sat on the bridge of his nose, ever so slightly askew. When he grinned, the man flashed a set of ivory teeth, perfectly straight and sparkling in the light.

"It's nice. You didn't paint it, did you?" Remus responded with a grin. It was Remus' own little joke, funny only to a particular few who had the same odd sense of humour as himself; nice was never used as a compliment.

The man returned the smile, russet eyes gleaming with something akin to excitement.

"If I said yes?"

"Then I'd tell you that your work is lovely and congratulations on the gallery show." Remus nodded, keeping his feigned confidence.

"And if I said no?" The man asked, a twinkle in his eyes and a crooked smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Then I'd tell you the work is adequate… for a contemporary piece of abstract painting. It's a pity that it's been done a thousand times before." Remus finished his thought with a grin of his own.

The man let out a sharp laugh, garnering the attention and glares of other patrons of the arts. Remus chuckled along, happy to have met someone who didn't take the art world so seriously. 

The man thrust his hand forward, grinning from ear to ear.

"James," he said, beaming.

Remus smiled and grasped the man's hand, giving a firm handshake. 

"Remus."

"Pleasure to meet you, Remus."

"Are you an artist?" Remus asked, trying to glean more information from his newfound acquaintance. James laughed again, running a hand through his already messy hair. 

"Me? No. Not even a little bit. I couldn't paint to save my life!"

Remus gave a casual shrug, glancing around at the other pieces of art on display in the gallery. 

"You don't have to paint to be an artist."

James shook his head with a playful sigh.

"Alas, I was born without a creative bone in my body. My wife, on the other hand…" James nodded towards the artist statement located next to the painting.

Remus felt the colour drain completely from his face as he realized James' implication, immediately regretting his decision of engaging the stranger.

"Oh, I am so sorry— " Remus began.

"Don't be!" James laughed, giving Remus a playful nudge with his elbow. "She hates this one, too."

"But I— "

"Honestly! She was gonna toss this one, but Sirius insisted on using it for his exhibition. Matched his aesthetic, apparently."

Oh.

James and his wife knew Sirius. Sirius Black. Owner of the gallery and curator of the show. Perhaps if Remus asked, he would be able to convince James to facilitate a meeting for him. 

"Oh!" James' exclamation interrupted Remus' thoughts. "I have to go. Sorry for cutting this short. It was a pleasure meeting you, Remus. I hope to see you around." 

Remus flashed James a well-practiced smile as he shook the man's hand, internally regretting not asking more about Sirius. As James disappeared into the crowd, it dawned on Remus that he had forgotten to exchange business cards with the other man. He groaned as he popped a cube of cheese into his mouth, mentally berating himself for his terrible networking skills.

"Ladies and gentlemen," a voice called from across the room, and Remus glanced up from his plate. "And everyone in between... I would like to welcome you here tonight, to the opening of Black and White."

The man who was speaking was unlike any person Remus had ever seen. He had alabaster skin that looked like it could have been carved from marble for all its perfection. A chiseled jawline, cheekbones so sharp, they could cut steel. His eyes were a shade of silvery blue, the exact colour of the sky on a perfectly stormy day, deep and expressive and frustratingly unreadable. He was wearing a navy blue suit with fabric that shimmered slightly in the light, paired with a tie that matched his irises. The man had long, dark hair, tied back in a slick ponytail, a brush expertly dipped in a bottle of ink. Remus couldn't help but admire this man who captured the attention of the entire room, his presence captivating the audience, radiating remarkable power and grandeur.

"As many of you know, this project has been in the works for some time now. Our exhibit, Foreshadow, is a perfect representation of things to come, of what you can expect to see from the gallery in the future. So, without further ado, enjoy the wine and the food and most importantly, the art!"

A round of applause broke out amongst the audience as the dapper man gave a dramatic little bow before turning away and greeting some of the gallery patrons. Remus couldn't help but stare as the man clasped James' shoulder, a bright smile flashing across his face. He shook the hand of a woman who wove her arm through James', presumably his wife. 

All three of them radiated light and joy, a warm glow surrounding them as they talked and laughed, greeting one another with broad smiles and kisses on the cheek. Standing alone by the edge of the room, Remus couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. He longed for the types of interactions that these people had, the types of lives that they led. Living in the lap of luxury, these upper-class people had no worries, not a care in the world; they were able to follow their passions and have the security blanket of financial stability to catch them if their plans failed. 

Remus finished his plate of appetizers and turned towards the door. Today had been long enough, he didn't need to make it harder on himself by dwelling on things that could never be. 

"Remus!" A voice called out, right before he had reached the exit. He turned around to find James waving to him, a gregarious smile spread wide across his face. He beckoned Remus over and after a moment's hesitation, Remus decided to join the trio.

"Remus, this is my wife, Lily. She's the one who did that painting you were admiring." James gave a playful wink as Remus felt his chest tighten from embarrassment. 

Lily was tall and slender, with auburn hair that cascaded down past her shoulders. Her pale skin was dusted with freckles, Pollock-esque and surprisingly alluring. She had emerald green eyes, shining with the same depth that a real gemstone would, sparkling facets each releasing a different shade of brilliant green. Ruby read lips were parted in a genuine smile as a flush of pink spread across her cheeks.

Lily groaned and rolled her eyes before offering her hand for Remus to shake. 

"Please tell me he's not referring to the one near the entrance," she said, her smile never wavering.

Remus grasped her hand and shook it before responding.

"I had been looking at it earlier—" Remus began, unsure of where that sentence was headed.

"I can't believe Sirius put that one on display! It's wretched! It's so… derivative. It's been done a million times before. I think this idiot just liked the colours."

Remus smiled, grateful for Lily's honesty and humility. She was the type of artist that Remus could see himself working with.

"Speaking of this idiot," James said, turning to the person that Remus assumed was the illustrious gallerist. "Remus, this is Sirius Black. Sirius, this is Remus. We met while discussing art."

Remus extended his hand to Sirius, keeping his smile polite and professional, despite the sense of awe and terror threatening to bubble out. Sirius shook his hand, a confident smirk playing at his lips.

"A pleasure," Sirius said in his posh accent, his stormy grey eyes endless pools that Remus found himself sinking into. 

"The pleasure is all mine," Remus offered before tearing his gaze away.

"What is it that you do, Remus?" Sirius' question made Remus' heart skip a beat. This was his chance. The opportunity fell right into his lap, presenting itself on a silver platter. 

"I'm an artist, actually." Remus' cheeks were beginning to ache from his forced smile, but he kept it up. "I've been looking for the right gallery to show in for some time now."

"Well then," Sirius responded, his eyebrow raised ever so slightly, the corner of his mouth turned up. "You'll have to stop by with your portfolio at some point. I'd me remiss if I didn't give James' friend an opportunity to show me his work." He put a particular emphasis on the word friend, as if he was entirely aware of the fact that Remus and James had only just met a few moments before.

"That would be amazing, thank you!" Remus had to strain to keep the excitement from his voice and remain calm in front of the gallery owner. 

"Excellent. In that case, I'll see you around, Remus." Sirius turned, gave Lily a kiss on the cheek, patted James on the shoulder, and went about mingling with his other guests. Sirius' lips wrapped around Remus' name hung precariously in the air, filling Remus up with a sense of— something— he didn't quite know what.

"Thank you," Remus sighed, feeling eternally grateful to James and his kindness.

"It was all Lily's idea," he said, flashing his wife a look of admiration. "She's the mastermind in this family."

Remus turned to thank Lily, but she cut him off before he could even begin.

"You're welcome, Remus. It was a pleasure meeting you. I hope to see you again soon."

As the couple walked away, Remus couldn't help but stare at their backs in disbelief. 

Did that really just happen? Had Remus actually just connected with one of the most influential names in the London art scene after a happenstance conversation with a stranger? As he walked back to his flat, the memories of the night replayed through his mind, over and over again, wondering how on earth he got so lucky.


	3. Part III

A week had passed since the opening of _ Black and White _, and in that time, Remus had hastily completed four paintings, photographed everything he had and assembled his portfolio book. He had the opportunity to show his work to one of the most influential people in the London art scene, and he'd be damned if he let anything get in his way. 

After a frustratingly long shift at the cafe, Remus trudged back to his tiny flat. He immediately hopped into the shower, letting the cool water run over his body, trying desperately to pretend it was warmer than it was. 

Remus hurriedly got dressed, making sure to wear the nicest article of clothing he owned: his one and only suit. Before leaving the house, Remus caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and paused.

He looked dapper. Well, dapper for a poor artist living from paycheck to paycheck, scrambling to put food on his table. His face was clean shaven, his curls gelled back neatly. His suit was ill-fitting, but it wasn't too noticeable. At least his shirt fit him nicely, and it matched his tie, which was good enough for him. Remus flashed the mirror a smile. It didn't look real; it looked like the type of smile Remus used to wear during the holidays when he visited his extended family. Taking a deep breath, the artist steadied himself and tried again, smiling into the mirror. It was believable enough. 

As Remus walked down the street, he couldn't help but let his mind wander. He was nervous. No, terrified. He had no idea what Sirius Black would think of his art, and he had no one to ask for help. None of his friends were artists. According to them, Remus' work was all "really nice, Remus! I love it!" Unfortunately, no one ever seemed to love it enough to want to purchase it. 

Remus had been ridiculed in the past. He had heard gallery owners tell him his work was too high-brow, too low-brow, too literal, too abstract. They've said they hated his use of colour, they hated the absence of colour, his work was too derivative, his work was too unique. It wasn't palatable for a modern audience, it was too confusing for the mainstream, it was too mainstream for the artists. Remus had heard everything about his art, how he would never make it in the art world and he would never sell a painting. It had been disheartening, but Remus continued painting anyway. He had no other choice. His life would never be complete if he didn't paint.

Before he even realized it, Remus was standing outside of _ Black and White _, his fingers gripped tightly around the portfolio case that he was holding. This was it. This was his chance. Remus lifted his hand to knock on the door and hesitated for a moment. 

He couldn't do it.

Then the door opened.

"Remus!"

James' grin was the same one Remus remembered from the gallery opening, broad and bright and filled with abundant enthusiasm. It was infectious, and Remus couldn't help but smile in return.

"Hello, James."

"Come in, come in!" James opened the door, gesturing for Remus to enter. As Remus passed him, the man began babbling about anything and everything. "Sirius said you might be stopping by today, so I figured I'd hop over! I'm excited to see what kind of work you have! I tried looking for a website for you online or something, but you don't really have a presence, do you? That's something you need to change, Remus! All artists need an online presence, that's the only way that people can find their work! We'll talk about it over dinner some time, I can definitely help you out with that. And Lily—"

"James…" The voice that cut him of was cold and low, reverberating in the spacious gallery. Remus almost didn't recognize the voice; the last time he had heard it, the man had seemed so happy. "James, stop boring our guest with your inane chatter."

Remus bit the corner of his lip, slightly uncomfortable at being present while James was scolded by his friend. James, on the other hand, seemed completely unphased. 

"Good luck," James offered cheerfully, clapping Remus on the shoulder. "I'll be here after your interview!"

Remus swallowed hard, his grip tightening on his portfolio case. He took a deep breath and headed to the back of the gallery where the voice had originated from. 

Sirius appeared in the threshold, looking as handsome now as he did a week ago. His hair was left loose around his shoulders, a shimmering black wave splayed across his back. He was wearing a stark white shirt, the top buttons or which were undone, exposing creamy skin and deep grey tattoos, faded slightly from the wear of time. His hands were tucked into his slacks, which were clearly tailored, falling just above shiny black shoes, two little mirrors reflecting a twisted version of the man who wore them. 

Sirius offered Remus a grin, which Remus tried— and failed— to return. Remus was fairly certain that whatever expression he did manage to make was some combination of deep-seated horror and completely awe-struck, with just a dash of panic. Sirius either didn't notice or chose to politely ignore Remus' face, opting instead to beacon him into the back office.

"Please, have a seat," Sirius said once Remus was in the room. The tone of Sirius' voice was still chilly compared to the warmth of the other day, making Remus feel more nervous than even he had anticipated. "What have you brought to show me?"

"Well," Remus began, scrambling to unzip his portfolio case. He pulled out his book and handed it to Sirius, stammering slightly as he explained himself. "I— I've taken some photographs of my work. I didn't really bring— I mean, I have one or two— but mostly I didn't bring any originals. But the photographs are _ good _," Remus insisted as he saw Sirius raise his eyebrow. 

Carefully, as if handling a venomous creature, Sirius opened Remus' portfolio book to the first page. Remus tried to read the man's expression, analyse his face, figure out what he thought of the art. Sirius was stone, completely still, his face unreadable. Remus felt a lump rise in his throat as Sirius turned the page without a word. Then another page. Then he skipped to a section in the middle.

Remus opened his mouth to protest, knowing that the gallerist had passed over one of his stronger pieces, but Sirius simply raised a finger, effectively silencing Remus. 

Sirius flipped through again, staring at a few more pieces before snapping the book shut with a sharp sound that startled Remus.

"What else have you brought?"

"I— " That was all Remus had. Just the one portfolio book. He thought that was all he needed. The only other things were a few doodles in his sketchbook, a few originals that were represented in his portfolio and an incomplete painting that he had been working on and accidentally packed. 

"Very well then," Sirius began, causing Remus to panic.

"No! I— I have some paintings!" Remus reached into his portfolio case and pulled one out, but he noticed the slight shake of Sirius' head, the purse of his lips. Remus pulled another out, hoping this would be what Sirius wanted to see. "I have these…"

Remus watched as Sirius' eyes shifted, lighting up ever so slightly.

"What else is in there?" He asked, nodding to the case.

"Oh, uh…" Remus peered inside his portfolio case, feeling uncertain. "No— Nothing… well, not _ nothing _, but i— it's not done."

"Show me," Sirius said sharply. It wasn't a question.

"Oh, um…" Remus reached into the bag and pulled out his unfinished piece. It was something that had been on his mind for a while, something he kept going to and stopping, unable to figure out how to continue, how he should finish it. The painting had troubled Remus for so long, he had honestly forgotten that it was even in his portfolio case. 

At once, Sirius' expression changed. It softened as his eyes danced across the canvas, darting back and forth, bright and shining in the gallery light. As they widened, Remus could see the sky blue in those eyes, the warmth of the grey. They were beautiful. Remus wanted to paint them.

"I want this," Sirius said under his breath, more to himself than to Remus. He looked up, as if he only just remembered that Remus was there. "This one. I like this. Do you have more if it?"

"Uh…" Remus wanted to tell Sirius that the work was unfinished. He wanted to say that it was the only one like it and that he didn't think he could ever create more. He wanted to demand why Sirius loved this one so much but hated all of his completed works. Instead, he reached into his satchel and pulled out his sketchbook. "I have these…"

Sirius held the book in his hands, almost reverently, and opened it. As he flipped through the pages, he scanned the artwork, taking it in, absorbing it. Unlike with Remus' portfolio, Sirius' mouth twisted slightly, moving as it shaped words under his breath. Page after page, Sirius kept going, taking in what he saw in the book. _ Liking _ it. Remus felt himself relax, felt the tightness behind his eyes, forcing back tears of relief.

The book closed and Sirius' eyes raised to meet Remus'.

"If you can give me more of _ this _ …" Sirius emphasized his point by placing his palm firmly on the textured black sketchbook cover. "And _ this _," he said, nodding to the unfinished painting, "I have a spot for you in this gallery."


	4. Part IV

"How'd it go?" James asked, once Remus had left the gallery. 

Sirius let out a sigh, the last of  _ Gallery Owner Sirius _ leaving his lungs, making way for the real Sirius Black that was always hidden just beneath the surface.

"He's talented, I'll give him that," Sirius muttered with a half smile. "But he's young. I don't know if he has the chops."

" _ You're _ young," James countered, raising a brow. "So's Lily. Hell, so am  _ I _ . What's age got to do with it?"

Sirius rolled his eyes, realizing that James would never quite get it.

"It's not  _ age _ , Potter, it's  _ experience _ . You and me? We've been in this world  _ forever.  _ Lils? She went to LCAD, studied beneath some of the greatest contemporary minds. This kid? This Lupin fellow? He's never been  _ taught.  _ That in and of itself doesn't put him at a disadvantage, per se… but it means that he doesn't know what's expected of him, what to put  _ out _ there." Sirius took a deep breath, focusing on his words, trying to explain the  _ art world _ to his very un-artistic friend. "Lupin makes the kind of art people want to see in a hotel room. It's nice. It's pretty. It's easy to look at. It doesn't  _ say _ anything, though. It doesn't challenge anything. His art doesn't bring anything into question, it doesn't push boundaries, it doesn't try to put itself out there. Nobody wants  _ hotel art _ in their gallery. They want the next  _ Koons _ . The next  _ Abromovic _ ."

"I hate Jeff Koons," James muttered under his breath, drawing out a chuckle from his friend. "And I could do with a little less Abramovic in the world too, now that you mention it. Maybe what galleries need is a little more…  _ Remus. _ "

"I'm going to give him a shot."

"Thank you— "

"It's not for  _ you _ ," Sirius interrupted. "It's for  _ him _ . I saw one of his unfinished pieces. He must have accidentally brought it with him… it was raw.  _ Fresh.  _ It was visceral, in a way that the kid didn't seem capable of. I liked it. I think  _ they'll _ like it. It's exactly the kind of art that I'd want in this gallery. I just…" Sirius ran a hand through his hair, brushing his bangs out of his eyes. For a moment, he thought of the way that Remus' gaze seemed to follow him everywhere, the way those hazel eyes seemed to be constantly  _ searching _ . "I just hope he can continue to bring… whatever it is he brought. That  _ energy _ . That…  _ je ne sais quoi _ …"

"Je sais quoi," a voice rang from the gallery entrance. Sirius looked up and grinned as Lily walked towards them. She had a smile playing across her lips and a slightly skeptical look in her eyes. "Je pense que tu l'aimes." 

"Tais-toi!" Sirius said sharply, trying to keep the grin off his face. "Ou trouve-toi une autre galerie!"

Lily chuckled at Sirius' remark.

"Oi! You  _ know _ how I feel about the  _ French! _ " James groaned in frustration. "Stop it! I don't understand you!" 

Lily wove her hand through her husband's arm and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. 

"Je t'aime," she said in a soft voice, earning herself a deep blush from James. "I think you understand that one."

"Yeah yeah," James mumbled, brushing off his embarrassment and glancing sheepishly at Sirius. He ruffled his hair nervously and chose to abruptly change the subject. " _ So!  _ Where do we want to go for dinner?!"

_____

Remus collapsed onto his bed, exhausted from the rollercoaster of emotions that he had experienced since entering  _ Black and White  _ earlier that evening. Sirius saw something in him. He liked Remus' art— not all of it albeit, but at least one piece had caught his eye.

For the life of him, Remus couldn't figure out what made his unfinished piece seem different from all of his other work, but Sirius had  _ liked _ it— he had wanted it in his gallery— and Remus would do anything it took to continue producing art that Sirius wanted. 

With a groan, Remus dragged himself up and stripped off his good clothes; he needed to start painting if he wanted to produce enough work to show in a gallery space, and the last thing he needed was paint on his only suit. He grabbed a dirty t-shirt from the floor and slipped it over his head before heading to the blank canvas that he had managed to set up earlier that morning. 

Remus stood in his boxers and ragged t-shirt, staring at the gesso-covered fabric, waiting for it to tell him something. The bright white canvas taunted him with its vast emptiness. It was easy to start painting when he had an idea, but how was he expected to come up with something from nothing?

In a fit of frustration, Remus grabbed a random tube of paint; the first tube of paint he was drawn to. He squirted an arbitrary amount into the paper plate that served as his pallet and dipped a clean brush into it. The way that the brush took the pigment, the way it scooped up the thick colour, Remus couldn't help but smile. The first brushstroke on an empty canvas was always his favourite. There was nothing more thrilling than making his mark on something so pure and untouched.  _ This _ was why Remus painted. 

Remus pressed the brush against the canvas, smearing ultramarine across eggshell. One stroke, then another, the bristles giving way beneath the pressure of Remus' hand, spreading the paint over the canvas in haphazard lines. Remus piled on paint over paint, blue over blue, until nearly the entire canvas was covered. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, the rich smell of the pigment filling his nostrils and settling comfortably in his lungs. He felt his shoulders relax, the tension dissipating, as the familiar scents washed over him. 

When he opened his eyes, the canvas was no longer blank. It was no longer a navy background over white gesso. Suddenly, it was a face. It was an emotion. It was a sensation that needed to be articulated in any way that Remus could. Remus scrambled for his tubes and grabbed the colours that he saw in his mind; a limited pallet, only five colours to choose from. As he squeezed the paint on his plate, he knew he had made the right choice; the brilliance of each shade fitting perfectly together like the pieces of a complex puzzle that only he could decipher. 

Then Remus painted.

It wasn't until he felt the pang of hunger that Remus realized where he was, what he was doing, how late it had become. Remus glanced over his shoulder at his clock, his stomach giving another rumble as he realized it was already past midnight. 

" _ Shit _ ," Remus murmured as he set his brush into his cup of water. "Better grab something to eat, I guess…"

Before heading to his fridge, Remus took one last look at his painting. He hadn't known it was finished until that very moment. When he saw it, noticing the face staring back at him, he caught a glimpse of something he had never been able to before; he recognized what Sirius was drawn to in his work.

The painting was rough, emotional, unclean and unfinished. Yet, as Remus took a step back to stare at his handiwork, it was obvious that it was  _ complete _ . There was nothing more Remus could do to this painting that would improve it. 

It was ready.


	5. Part V

_ Ring ring. _

Remus frantically scrambled out of bed, blindly searching for his phone on his nightstand as the jingle from some obscure show from his childhood blasted its tinny melody.

_ Ring ring. _

"Yes, hello?" Remus answered, slightly breathless and mostly groggy. There was a pause on the other end.

"Hello. Mr Lupin?"

"Yes, yes that's me," Remus said nervously. He didn't often get phone calls, especially ones that were in any way positive.

"Hello. This is Sirius Black from  _ Black and White _ , I'm just following up from our conversation yesterday."

"Oh!" Remus felt his fear make way for a completely different kind of anxiety. "Um, hi. Hello… Mr. Black..." Remus wasn't entirely sure how the man preferred to be addressed, so he went with the more formal option.

"Yes. Hello." The man on the other end seemed uncomfortable for a moment before clearing his throat and continuing. "So, as I had mentioned yesterday, some of your work did speak to me. I feel like there could be a place for you in my gallery, however, there are a few things that must be arranged before we can sign any agreements. I always do a studio visit of any potential artists, so that's probably the first thing we should discuss."

Remus felt as if he was suddenly punched in the gut, all the air sucked out from his lungs.

"A… studio visit?"

"Yes. I like to see the spaces where my artists work, see what they have as on-going projects. It helps me predict how well they'll fit in with my gallery's aesthetic and if they'll be able to keep up with demand, should their art find success in my gallery."

"I…" Remus looked around his tiny flat, at the three easels propped up amidst piles of books and dirty laundry. There were cups filled with water and paint brushes scattered about the room, tubes of paint strewn across the floor. Remus' tiny bed was shoved into a corner, next to the pathetic excuse for a "kitchen". Remus' living space was appalling, he knew that, but it hadn't presented itself as a problem until that very moment. "I don't… I'd rather not, actually. My… um… my studio is a bit messy at the moment…" It wasn't  _ exactly _ a lie.

Remus heard Sirius sigh on the other end of the line, and when he spoke up, his voice was dripping with exasperation. 

"Lupin, this is something I do with all of my artists."

"I know, but—"

"You're not looking for preferential treatment just because James introduced us, are you?"

Sirius' tone was sharp and combative and Remus felt his stomach churn unpleasantly. This was clearly a man who was not used to hearing  _ no _ , and he didn't seem to take it well. Remus pursed his lips, slightly displeased that Sirius' first reaction was an attack.

"I don't know why you'd jump to that conclusion," Remus responded, before realizing that he should probably remain on the gallery owner's good side. "What I mean is… I… I don't have a studio."

"...You don't have a studio?" Sirius sounded skeptical and Remus could picture the way his eyebrow raised ever so slightly.

"I don't have a studio. I paint out of my flat." It was the truth, after all. With Sirius' insistence, Remus figured there was no point in lying.

There was a pause on the other end, and Remus held his breath, knowing that he might have just cost himself the chance at showing his work in  _ Black and White _ .

"Very well. I suppose you'll have to clean your apartment then." Sirius' voice had a smug edge to it and Remus chewed his lip in frustration.

"Mr. Black, I— "

"Mr. Lupin, would you like to show in my gallery or  _ not _ ?"

Remus took a deep, steadying breath, gripping his phone tightly in his hand. He had to unclench his teeth and temper his voice before responding.

"Yes,  _ Sir.  _ I would like to show my work in your gallery, I just—"

"Good. It's settled then. How does Friday sound? Noon?"

Remus pulled his phone from his ear and mouthed a silent scream at it, a string of obscenities at the tip of his tongue.

"My apologies," Remus responded politely, bringing the phone back to his ear. "I have a shift at work on Friday. I won't be home until eight."

Another pause.

"A shift… at work? Painting isn't your full-time job?"

Remus couldn't keep the scoff from escaping his lips.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Lupin, but I don't want  _ hobbyists _ in my gallery. I want professional artists, who dedicate their time to their craft and—"

"Now listen here,  _ Mr. Black _ ," Remus spat, forgetting himself for a moment and losing his temper completely. "Not all of us have had the  _ pleasure _ of Mummy and Daddy paying for our elite, private school education and funding our life's work!  _ Some _ of us have to take jobs on the side in order to put god damn  _ food _ on the table and a roof over our heads! Just because I work another job does  _ not _ mean I am any less dedicated to my art! I am an  _ artist _ , dammit! If you like my work, great! Otherwise,  _ fine.  _ But don't try to pretend that me having to work in a cafe has any impact whatsoever on my ability to  _ create _ !"

By the end of his rant, Remus was panting, his chest heaving. He hated himself for losing his temper, he knew that it had cost him everything, but he couldn't let Sirius Black get away with talking to him like that. The man had lived such a privileged life and he held such an ignorant view of the society, for the first time since meeting him, Remus realized that Sirius' maturity was a facade; beneath the surface seemed to be a petulant child who didn't understand how the  _ real _ world worked.

After an uncomfortable silence, Sirius eventually responded.

"Very well. I will see you on Friday at 8:00. Please message me your address to this number. Good day, Mr. Lupin."

There was a click as Sirius hung up and Remus stared at his mobile sitting limply in his hand, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.


	6. Part 6

Remus sat on the edge of his bed, careful not to wrinkle his suit too much. His fingers were folded tightly over his lap, his leg bouncing up and down from nerves. He had left work half an hour early to shower and prepare for Sirius' arrival; he didn't realize the man would be so late.

It was already quarter past when there was a knock on the door, startling Remus out of his thoughts. The artist stood up, attempted to smooth out his pants, and headed towards the entrance of his flat. When he opened the door, he was greeted with the smug half-smirk of Sirius Black.

"Hello, Mr. Lupin."

"Um… hello, Si— Mr. Black"

Remus held his hand out. Sirius glanced down at it as if this was the first time anyone had offered him a handshake. After a momentary pause, he grasped Remus' hand firmly before pulling away.

"Are you going to invite me in, or shall I stay out here all evening?"

_ I'd rather the latter, to be honest. _

Remus forced a smile on his lips and moved out of the way, motioning for Sirius to head inside. 

"Please," he said, his tone overly polite. "Come in."

Sirius entered the apartment, stopping in the centre of the room and gazing around. As he watched the gallery owner analyze the tiny flat, Remus' heart sank. 

"Charming," Sirius muttered, loud enough for Remus to hear. The artist narrowed his eyes in anger, his nails digging into the palms of his hands. 

"I'm sure it's not as nice as you're used to," Remus retorted, trying— and failing— to keep the contempt and loathing out of his voice. He was beginning to regret ever meeting Sirius Black. 

"No, it's not," Sirius mumbled, heading towards an easel in the corner of the room. Remus opened his mouth to answer, but Sirius cut him off. "What's this?"

Remus glanced over at the painting and his heart skipped a beat; he had forgotten that he was working on that specific piece earlier in the day. He had intended to put it away before Sirius arrived, but it had slipped his mind.

"It— it's just a painting," Remus insisted, heading towards Sirius and the easel in the hopes of redirecting the gallerist's attention. "Something I was working on this morning..."

"I like this one." 

_ You would. _

The painting was of an image that Remus had been struggling to shake from his mind all week: piercing grey eyes and a sharp jawline, refined features that exuded confidence. It was a face that was impossible for Remus to forget, despite how hard he tried. 

"I have others. This one isn't finis— "

Sirius turned around, leering at Remus, a predatory smirk crossing his lips. He straightened his posture and ran a hand through his hair, brushing his bangs from his eyes. He cocked a perfectly sculpted eyebrow and simply  _ stared.  _ Remus opened his mouth and closed it, vaguely resembling a distraught fish, before finally finding his words.

"Mr. Black, I can— "

Sirius took a step towards Remus, raising a hand to the artist's face, his fingers barely grazing against skin. Remus felt his face ignite, his cheeks burning beneath the heat of Sirius' gaze. Grey eyes flicked down and up again, analyzing the man standing before them.

"Mr. Lupin, there are easier ways to get my attention."

"That wasn't—" Remus stammered, taking a step back and almost tripping over a can of gesso.

"I've had plenty of portraits commissioned in my time, but none have captured me quite so… genuinely."

"This isn't—" 

"There's no need to be shy, Mr. Lupin. You wouldn't be the first artist who's been quite  _ taken _ with me."

"I'm not— "

Sirius took another step forward, leaning into Remus' personal space, intrusive and purposeful. As his lips neared Remus', the artist raised his hands, placing them firmly on the other man's chest, before pushing him away.

" _ Stop _ ! Mr. Black, what the hell are you  _ doing _ ?!"

Sirius stumbled back from the force of Remus' shove, pausing for a moment before collecting himself. He swept his hair out of his eyes and grinned at Remus, as if nothing was amis. 

"Making sure your intentions are  _ pure _ . I don't want an artist who wants to show in my gallery as a way of getting into my pants after all." Sirius gave a nonchalant shrug, feigning innocence. Despite the smile on his lips, Remus could have sworn that he noticed a flash of disappointment clouding silver eyes and a subtle flush creeping across porcelain cheeks. 

"Trust me," Remus growled, barely containing his disdain for the other man, "I have absolutely no intention of doing  _ anything _ of the sort. I am a  _ professional _ ." He emphasised his last word with a venomous bite, seeing past Sirius' feigned innocence.

" _ Good, _ " Sirius shot back, a glint of malice in his intense gaze.

" _ Good _ ," Remus spat, squaring his shoulders and clenching his jaw.

Sirius gave Remus a once over, from his toes to the tip of his curls, before running a hand through his hair and turning around. 

"I've seen enough. I'll let you know my decision in the near future, Mr. Lupin." Sirius began striding towards the front door before Remus had a chance to absorb his words.

" _ Wait _ !" 

Sirius glanced over his shoulder, cocking an eyebrow, the edge of his mouth curling upwards ever so slightly.

"Yes?"

"I…" Remus didn't want Sirius to leave on a bad note; the artist knew it would have a direct effect on his career. "I'm sorry. I just… please,  _ Mr. Black _ , I would very much like to show in your gallery." In his mind, Remus knew it was pathetic to resort to grovelling, but he didn't have very many options available to him.

Sirius raised his chin, his smirk growing wider. Remus noted how much the gallerist enjoyed being in the position of power, the way he relished in Remus' pleading.

"It takes a strong work ethic and a consistent style to be able to show with me. Is that something you're prepared for, Mr. Lupin?"

"Yes." Remus knew he had what it took to impress Sirius Black, now he just needed to keep his temper around the insufferable man. "I'm prepared for anything."

"Very well. We'll be in touch regarding my decision."

In an instant, Sirius was gone and Remus was left alone in his tiny flat, feeling frustrated and humiliated.  _ Black and White _ had better provide some fantastic opportunities to make this whole song and dance worth the trouble.


	7. Part 7

"Remus!"

James' jovial voice echoed across the gallery as Remus stepped through the threshold. The artist wasn't expecting such an enthusiastic greeting and he couldn't help but grin in response. How someone as friendly as James could be close with a man like Sirius was well beyond Remus' comprehension. 

"Hello, James," Remus said with a smile, nodding politely at his new friend. "I didn't expect to see you here. Are you helping Si— Mr. Black with the gallery?"

"Oh,  _ heavens _ , no!" James said with a laugh, running a hand through his messy hair. "No, I'm here to pick Sirius up for dinner with Lily and myself!" James paused for a moment, eyeing Remus with fascination, his lips pursed in thought. "Would you like to join us?"

"Oh, no, thank you. No. Thanks for the offer, I appreciate it but…" Remus gave an uncomfortable chuckle as he glanced over at Sirius' office at the back of the gallery. "I don't… thank you. No."

James laughed, full-bellied and playful.

"Please, don't worry about Sirius. His bark is worse than his bite. He's actually quite friendly once you get to know him!" James grinned earnestly at Remus, burnt umber eyes glittering in the stark gallery light, a flash of ivory in his smile. "I'd love it if you joined us.  _ Honestly _ . You're good company, Remus. I could do with more friends like you in my life."

Remus stared at James, slightly flabbergasted, mouth agape. He didn't understand  _ why _ James had taken a liking to him; the two men had hardly known each other for a few minutes before the man vouched for Remus. They had only seen one another twice since then, and James was already inviting Remus out to dinner. This was a peculiar man, and the artist wasn't entirely sure if he was being played or not. 

"Mr. Lupin."

Remus was pulled out of his thoughts by the cold, steady voice of the gallery owner. He turned around to find Sirius Black exiting his office and heading towards where James and Remus stood.

"Hello Mr. Black," Remus mumbled politely, nodding at the man who would determine his entire future. "You had asked to see me tonight?"

"Yes, well," Sirius began awkwardly, his steady composure faltering slightly. "I seem to have double booked myself this evening. My— my apologies, Mr. Lupin."

"Not to worry," James chimed in, as happy as ever. "Remus will be joining us for dinner! You can discuss your art stuff while we're there!"

"Is he now," Sirius responded darkly, his eyes drifting between James and Remus, smokey grey clouded with sudden displeasure.

"No, I—"

"Yes," James said sharply, as if the decision was closed to discussion. "I invited him."

"Please, James, I really—" Remus began.

" _ Fine _ ," Sirius spat, glancing at Remus once again. "Let's hope Mr. Lupin here doesn't mind the restaurant.  _ Chez Bijou _ isn't exactly…  _ cheap _ ."

Remus felt his fists tighten at Sirius words and he opened his mouth to speak before James cut him off.

"Not to worry!" James waved his hand casually. "This is a business dinner now! We can always write it off as an expense!"

"James, I'm not going to— "

"Please, I don't want to be a— "

" _ End of discussion _ ," James said sharply, his voice tinged with a hint of anger. Both Remus and Sirius ceased their protests. "Now, Remus, did you drive here, or do you need to ride with us?"

Remus opened and closed his mouth, still not understanding what was happening around him.

"I— uh— "

"Car it is. Not to worry! Plenty of room! I brought the winter car today, fits four people quite comfortably!" James droned on as he led the way out of the gallery. Remus hesitated for a moment before following, trying to keep up with James' brisk stride. He could hear Sirius let out a  _ hmph _ behind him before his familiar footsteps filled the room. 

Before he realized what was happening, Remus was sitting in silence beside Sirius in the back of James'  _ Mercedes _ , Lily and James Potter chatting away in the front. This had to be the most uncomfortable business meeting that Remus had ever attended. 


	8. Part VIII

_ Chez Bijou _ was the fanciest restaurant that Remus had ever seen.

When they first walked in, the hostess insisted on taking their coats, hanging them up in a little cupboard and giving each person their own ticket. Remus had seen this before at catered events and fancy gallery showings, but never in a restaurant. 

When the group of four sat down at their table, a man in an elegant suit came by and introduced himself as their  _ sommelier _ . James enthusiastically chatted away with him about wine while Remus stared awkwardly around himself, taking in the scene. He was underdressed, to say the least. While Remus thought he had been wearing professional clothing for his meeting with Sirius, he realized that a golf shirt and slacks was not appropriate attire for a restaurant of this caliber. Every man he could see was wearing a tie, every woman a dress. There were no children in the entire restaurant, and James seemed to be the only person who looked genuinely relaxed. 

"Remus, white or red?"

"Hmm?" Remus was pulled from his musing by James' voice.

"Do you prefer white or red?" James offered Remus a smile, but the artist could feel his stomach drop despite his friend's enthusiasm. He knew he couldn't afford a meal here, let alone a glass of wine. 

"Um… I'm… I'm okay, actually, thank you…" He muttered softly, eyes drifting down to the napkin on his plate. 

"Nonsense! We're getting a bottle! Any preference?"

"I'm having fish," Lily chimed in, leaning towards James and saving Remus from the embarrassment of having to answer. "So white for me, please."

"Oh, I was gonna get a steak," Sirius said with a playful pout, giving his friends a cheeky wink.

"It's settled then!" James turned to the man standing beside him, his grin never wavering. "A bottle of each. What do you recommend?"

Remus had never seen someone so frivolous with expenses before. They couldn't decide on a colour of wine, so he ordered two bottles? Remus was speechless; this was clearly a world that he was not a part of, and would likely never understand. 

"Excuse me, Sir." 

Remus looked up to see a waiter standing beside him who was reaching towards the table.

"Oh, am I in your way?" The artist asked timidly.

"No, no, not to worry."

The waiter reached forward and— to Remus' complete and utter shock— picked up Remus' napkin. His  _ napkin _ ! He gently unfolded it and— Remus couldn't even begin to believe what was happening— reached down and placed it in Remus' lap.

"Oh! Um… Th— thank you?"

The waiter nodded and moved on to Lily, who was sitting to Remus' left. She pushed her chair back slightly and smiled at the server as he put the napkin on her lap, nodding  _ thanks _ as he finished. 

"Still or sparkling?"

Remus turned to his right to find yet  _ another  _ waiter— making three staff members at their table— holding two bottles of water.

"Uh… P— pardon?" Remus chewed his lip slightly, not entirely sure what the man was asking him. 

"Still or sparkling?  _ Water _ ." He added the last word in an almost condescending tone. 

"Oh… uh… do you just have… tap water?"

The server cocked an eyebrow at Remus, who felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment. 

"Still," Lily said to the server, leaning in closer to Remus. "He'll have still. I'll have sparkling, please."

After the server poured their drinks and moved on to the other two, Lily placed a reassuring hand on Remus' knee. She smiled at him, bright red lips pressed together, emerald eyes glittering with understanding. 

"It wasn't easy my first time, either."

Remus' brow knitted together as he looked at Lily, confused by her statement. Lily must have noticed, because her lips parted, exposing a row of bright white teeth and a soft laugh. 

"The first time James took me to a place like this," she clarified, removing her hand from Remus' knee and gesturing at the table. "A place where they wait on you hand and foot… where the menus don't have prices…"

"The menus don't have  _ prices _ ?" Remus exclaimed softly, his eyes growing wide with disbelief. Lily chuckled at him, tucking a loose strand of auburn behind rosey ears. 

"You'll get used to it, don't worry."

_ You'll get used to it _ .

Lily's words rang in Remus' ears as she turned away to talk to her husband. 

_ You'll get used to it _ implied that this wasn't a one-time thing. It meant that James fully intended to continue to bring Remus to these types of places; places that the artist knew he couldn't afford. He would have to turn down the next offer, and  _ then _ what? Would be still be allowed to show his work in the gallery? Would refusing an offer like that put his art career in jeopardy?

"So, Remus!" James began excitedly when the wait staff finally disappeared. "You excited to show in the gallery?"

Remus felt his stomach drop slightly as he remembered the reason for his original meeting with Sirius. 

"Oh, I… I don't know if Sirius has made that decision yet…" Remus glanced over to Sirius, who was glaring at James, pursing his lips in displeasure. 

"You're correct, Mr. Lupin," Sirius said, turning to Remus, the displeasure written clearly across his face. "I have yet to decide whether or not your art would fit in with our aesthetic."

"Nonsense," James grumbled under his breath. His muttering was met with a gentle slap on the arm and a scathing look from Lily. James turned to his wife incredulously, his expression exaggerated in the same way he did everything. "What? We all know Sirius wants Remus to show in the gallery. Why doesn't he just come out and say it?!"

Remus could feel his ears burning as he watched the discussion unfold, feeling as if he was privy to something intimate between friends. This was not a conversation that he should be a part of, and he knew his presence at the dinner table was unwarranted and unappreciated. The artist glanced over his shoulder, debating whether or not he should excuse himself and head to the toilet. 

"Remus?"

Remus turned his attention back to the table, where Lily was calling his name.

"Oh, uh, sorry, I missed that… what were you saying?"

"I asked if you could give us a moment?" Her expression was soft, pitying, almost embarrassed. She had a deep crimson flush spreading across her freckled cheeks, a sharp contrast against the shimmering green of her eyes. "I'm so sorry," she added, placing a hand on Remus' shoulder for a brief moment.

"Sure, yeah, of course… I uh… Please— Please excuse me," Remus mumbled awkwardly as he pushed his chair out and headed in the direction of the restroom, grateful for a chance to escape.

———-

The moment Remus walked away from the table, Lily turned on her husband. 

" _ James Potter! _ It is  _ not _ your place to tell Sirius how to conduct his business!"

Sirius grinned to himself, relieved that at least Lily was on his side. 

"Yes,  _ thank _ you, Lily—" he began, before the feisty red-head turned on him.

"And  _ you _ !" She jabbed a finger in Sirius' direction. "You need to stop stringing that young man along! What you're doing to him isn't fair! It's fine if you don't want him in the gallery, but let him know that so he can move on!"

Sirius' lips formed a disappointed pout as he squared his shoulders at Lily. 

"You know, I do the same thing for  _ all _ of my artists. Just because you and your husband have taken a liking to him does  _ not _ mean I should give him preferential treatment!"

"Don't  _ even _ !" Lily exclaimed in frustration as she gestured at her friend. She clenched her fists and took a deep breath before continuing. "Argh! Je  _ sais _ que tu l'aimes!"

" _ Lily _ !" James groaned at his wife. "You  _ know _ I don't speak French!"

"T'es con ou quoi?!" Sirius said angrily, his voice coming out louder than he intended. He wasn't particularly keen on what Lily was implying. 

" _ Ta gueule _ ," Lily retorted, echoed with another groan of displeasure from her husband. "Et  _ toi aussi _ ," she said, turning to James and giving him a sharp poke in the chest. She knew he understood  _ exactly _ what she meant, based on her tone alone. She turned back to Sirius, her expression softening slightly.

"Sirius, je t'aime, mais tu es… tu es… un blaireau!"

" _ Lily! _ " James was clearly exasperated and as Lily glanced at him, she thought better than to continue berating Sirius in French. Lily sighed and shook her head, leaning back in her chair. 

"Sirius, tell James," she said simply, raising a brow at her friend.

"Tell him  _ what? _ There's nothing to  _ tell _ !" Sirius insisted, his cheeks flushing slightly. 

"N'importe quoi," Lily muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes. 

"Tell me  _ what _ , Lily?" James asked, more frustrated than before. He hated being left out of conversations, especially between his wife and his best friend. He turned to Sirius, practically pleading. "Tell me  _ what?! _ "

Lily turned to her husband, offering him a sceptical look. She really loved James, more than anything, but he could be a bit thick at times. 

"Sirius likes Remus," she said bluntly after a moment's pause.

"I do  _ not _ ," Sirius hissed, all too quickly. 

"Oooh…" James leaned back in his chair, nodding slowly. "Yeah, that explains a lot."

"I do  _ not _ !" Sirius repeated, glancing over to the toilets in panic. "And it explains  _ nothing _ !"

"Whatever," Lily mumbled with a shrug. "Just… be nice to him, okay?" She watched as Sirius' eyes narrowed and met him with a penetrating stare. " _ Okay _ , Sirius?"

" _ Fine. _ "

"Good." Lily smiled at her husband, reaching over to squeeze his fingers in her own. "Maybe we can still salvage this meal and have a pleasant dinner after all…"

  
  



	9. Chapter 9

Remus spent ten minutes in the washroom.

He didn’t  _ want _ to spend ten minutes there, standing around by the sink, eying himself awkwardly in the mirror, nodding uncomfortably at the man who stood in the corner giving out mints. At first, Remus considered returning to the table, but then he pictured Sirius’ face, dark and cold, his glare as sharp as his cheekbones. 

A few minutes in, Remus noticed the bathroom attendant— Is that what he was called? — eyeing him suspiciously. He gave the man a guilty smile and tried to save face. 

“I’m uh… just waiting on some friends… they’re… uh… having a conversation at the table? A… A private one… I just…” 

Remus cut himself off after he realized how little the other man cared about his predicament and how awkward his explanation sounded. 

After ten minutes in the restroom, Remus eventually returned to the table, praying to whoever would listen that his friends' discussion was over; the last thing Remus needed was to walk in on them talking about him. When he arrived, Lily and James both offered genuine smiles. Sirius was staring intently at the menu, making a point of not glancing up as Remus sat down beside him.

“Remus! Hey… Sorry about that,” Lily began, before Remus shook his head in response.

“It’s no problem, really. Gave me a chance to… get some fresh air…” Remus didn’t know why he lied; perhaps he didn’t want his companions to know that he had spent the entire time staring at the mirror above the sinks. 

Just as Remus lifted up the menu to begin looking at it— Lily was right, there were no prices! — a server came by to take their orders. 

“Sir? What can I get you?”

“Oh…” Remus glanced down at the menu again, then back up at the server. “Can you… come back to me? At the end?”

“Of course, sir.”

Remus searched through the menu for the least expensive-sounding option as the rest of the party gave their orders. By the time the waiter circled back to Remus, he had settled on something.

“I’ll have the salad, please.”

“Very good, Sir. And for your main course?”

“Oh, uh… that… that was for my main course.”

The waiter cocked an eyebrow and Remus could feel the back of his neck burning. 

“Sir, this is a  _ prix fix  _ menu. It’s all included. The appetizer, the main course, the dessert, all one price.”

_ Oh. _

That explained why the menu didn't have any prices on it. It also posed a problem for Remus, who wanted to spend as little as possible at this exceedingly expensive establishment. 

He glanced down at the menu again, feeling the eyes of his companions all settling on him, waiting for his response. Remus swallowed, trying to steady his nerves. He needed to keep his voice from shaking. 

"Wh— what do you recommend?"

"The steak is our most popular dish. A very fine cut. Exceptional."

"O-okay… I'll have that."

"Very good, sir. How would you like your steak?"

Remus glanced over to Lily, hoping that she could help save him from embarrassment. He had never ordered steak at a restaurant; what was he supposed to tell the server? Lily smiled kindly at him, in that way she always seemed to smile. It was as if nothing about her could ever be unkind. 

"It's usually best medium-rare," she said softly.

"Okay, uh… medium-rare then…"

The server nodded before leaving the table. 

"Thanks," Remus mumbled under his breath, earning himself a gentle squeeze on the arm from Lily. 

Conversation at the table picked up, and Remus noticed his nerves settle slightly as James and Lily chatted away. Lily began talking about art, a conversation that Remus could participate in, resulting in a vibrant debate about the merits of the hand-made and the decline of technique in the contemporary art world. 

"I think that's the biggest flaw with performance art," Remus was saying as the  _ sommelier _ filled his second glass of wine. "There's no skill involved. Sure, your idea can be strong, but there's a definite lack of artistic prowess, and it's a sincere pity. It really is detrimental to overall artistic growth in terms of sheer  _ ability _ ."

"You're wrong," Sirius said suddenly, speaking up for the first time since Remus arrived back at the table. Remus looked over to Sirius, expecting him to look upset. Instead, the gallerist had a smug grin on his face, his eyes sparkling with passion. "And if every artist thought like you, we would be stuck looking at the same thing in every gallery."

" _ Sirius _ ," Lily said threateningly, before Remus cut her off.

"No, no, I want to hear this. Go on, Si— Mr. Black. I'd love to hear your explanation."

"Well," Sirius began, pausing to nod at the server who brought him a plate of food. "Performance art, readymade, the types of works that, as you say, don't require talent… those artists push the boundaries of what is defined as art. They move the contemporary world in a new direction, challenging the ideals of the time, bringing forth new concepts and making statements "

Remus smiled at Sirius, shaking his head.

"There's a time and a place, Mr. Black." He took a bite of his food and paused for a moment to savour the variety of flavours. Despite being a salad, it was so different than anything he had ever tried before; sweetness paired with bitter, the tang of citrus crossed with the bite from spiced pecans. He closed his eyes, relishing in the sheer  _ sensation _ of eating. 

"You were saying, Mister Lupin?"

"Oh, yes, sorry. This is delicious. Yes, a time and a place. At the time that Duchamp first introduced the concept of readymade, there was a genuine need for it in the art world. Nowadays, if somebody presented a urinal in an art gallery, they would be laughed at! What the contemporary art world needs these days is a return to craftsmanship. We need to go back to our roots, to explore techniques, to learn how to paint and draw and sculpt the way we used to."

"And what of Abromovic, who challenges what it means to be an artist?" Sirius asked, his grin growing wider, a hint of colour spreading across his cheeks.

"What about her?" Remus retorted, taking another bite and picking out the individual flavours of the dish. 

"Well, Mr. Lupin, she changes the way we view art. Art is no longer something that is inaccessible to the lower class, the uneducated. Art is something that anyone can do, or be, or have, or create. Art is no longer reserved for the elite. People can no longer  _ purchase _ art the same way they used to. I cannot  _ own _ an Abromovic masterpiece. I can enjoy it and witness it, I can be a  _ part _ of it, but it's not something that I can have and keep to myself behind closed doors. Art is no longer a  _ commodity _ ."

Remus nodded to the server who cleared his plate before giving Sirius a slightly skeptical look.

"You don't need to tell me about commodification of art and the inability to access it," Remus said with a grin. "If anything, I should be the one arguing for art accessibility for the lower class, not you."

Sirius' eyes flashed with something that Remus couldn't decipher, and for the briefest moment, the gallerist looked taken aback. Sirius' composure quickly resumed, however, covering up any sense of doubt, his lips twisted smugly.

"Well then, Mr. Lupin, my point shouldn't be lost on you."

"It's not," Remus said with a casual shrug, glancing over to James and Lily who were merely observers of the conversation rather than participants. "I understand what you mean. I just don't think people should become so wealthy on such minimal talent…"

Sirius didn't respond.

Remus noticed the silence that settled over the table and his smile faded. He sat up straight, fiddling with the corner of his napkin, realizing his error. 

"I… I mean… like Abromovic. She's so wealthy and she… well… she hasn't produced anything… and galleries keep bringing her in and, well, she… uh…"

Two servers arrived at their table, placing a plate in front of each person, and Remus had never been more grateful for a distraction. 

"Ah! Wonderful!" James exclaimed, drawing the table's attention to himself. He smiled across at Remus, as if to say that all was well, but Remus could tell that something was off with Sirius. The artist glanced over to his right, where the gallerist was digging into his dinner. 

With a shrug, Remus focused his attention on his steak, and the moment he took a bite, all of his worries faded away. 

Remus had never tasted meat like this before. It was soft and tender, dripping with juices and a punch of flavour. His knife slid through the meat so easily, so effortlessly, revealing a perfectly pink interior. This was the most delicious meal Remus had ever eaten in his entire life. 

_ No wonder rich people are always so happy. I'd be happy too, if I could eat this whenever I wanted. _

Remus knew he'd never be able to properly enjoy a steak again, it would always be compared to the perfect dish before him.

"So Remus," Lily began, once their plates were beginning to empty. "If you don't like Abromovic or Koons, which artists  _ do  _ you like?"

Remus grinned at his friend as he set his fork and knife down.

"And I'm assuming I can't just say  _ myself _ ?"

Lily and James both laughed at his joke, but Sirius' face twisted into a scowl. 

"A little proud of yourself, are we?"

Remus' gaze returned to Sirius, trying to read the man; he couldn't tell if his joke was lost on Sirius or if the man simply lacked a sense of humour.

"I mean,  _ I _ didn't name a gallery after myself…"

Another pause. The table seemed to hold its collective breath as Remus' taunt landed. 

Sirius' lips parted in a grin, and he let out a sharp laugh. Remus felt his body release the tension he didn't realize the was holding, his shoulders relaxing and a breath escaping his lungs.

_ Thank god. _

Sirius laughing meant that Remus didn't put the rest of his life at risk. He was, however, beginning to despise the minefield that was this dinner, waiting for his next slip up, waiting for his world to explode. 

"That's funny, Mr. Lupin." Sirius said, after a good chuckle. "Very funny. Especially considering the fact that up until very recently, it was your desire to  _ show _ in that gallery."

_ Shit. _

"Oh shush," James butted in, before anyone else could say anything. "Learn to take a joke, Sirius. Don't be so—"

" _ Don't say it, _ James!" Lily warned, barely containing her grin.

"I was merely playing along!" Sirius teased, his cheeks rosy from the alcohol and laughter, his eyes sparkling with mirth. His gaze flickered toward Remus, and the artist felt his heart skip a beat. Sirius was a very handsome man, and laughter looked particularly good on him. He was attractive no matter what he did, any way that he held himself. When he  _ smiled _ , though…

Remus quickly looked away, directing his attention to the remnants on his plate. When Sirius smiled, his eyes lit up, as blinding as the sun kissing the sky on a perfect winter day. They were the very shade of snow beneath a tree, the lightest of blues, perfectly undisturbed. Sirius' cheeks bore the morning blush of a sunrise, the colour of the sky just as it threatened to turn blue. Next to the creamy glow of his face, it took on an almost ethereal quality. 

Remus loved the colours of Sirius.

And he hated how much he loved it.

"Any coffee with your dessert, sir?" 

Remus thought his heart might have exploded with the shock of being wrenched from his thoughts. He looked up at the server with a look of panic, having completely forgotten where he was.

"Um… no, no thank you. I'm fine," he mumbled, tearing his eyes from the server and keeping them focused on the chocolate torte that had been placed in front of him.

_ Thank god _ .

Nothing could redirect Remus' imagination quite like chocolate, and he was thoroughly grateful for the distraction. 

Dessert passed with minimal conversation as everyone savoured their delicacies. As discussion resumed, it veered away from art, and Remus found himself listening more than talking. Eventually, the server came by the table, and Remus realized that his perfect meal and fantasy evening was about to come to an abrupt and painful close. 

"Will there be anything else you need?"

"No, just the bill, please," James said politely.

"Together or separate?"

"Together."

_ Together? _

Remus opened his mouth to protest, but thought better of it; he waited for the server to leave before he rounded on James.

"You really don't have to do that, James. Honestly, I can't let you—"

"Nonsense!" James said with an enthusiastic flap of his hand. "Of course I'm paying! This dinner is my treat!"

"But it really—"

"Remus, I invited you to join us! It's my pleasure!"

Remus knew he should be happy, he should feel relieved; his whole night had been laced with anxiety as he thought about the ludicrous cheque that was waiting for him. Instead, Remus felt guilty. He felt like he was in debt to James, like he owed the man. There was no way he could accept a gift this generous without repaying the favour.

"You don't have to," Remus mumbled, feeling the weight of his words press down on his shoulders. He was damned either way, but at least if he paid for his meal, he wouldn't be indebted to anyone. 

"I know," James said, his smile never faltering. "I don't have to do anything. I  _ want _ to. Now, back to the  _ real _ matter at hand…" James turned to Sirius. He was clearly finished with the discussion about the bill, and Remus knew better than to push.

"Yes, James?" Sirius said, quirking a brow playfully.

"Now that you've had a proper opportunity to get to know Remus, have you come to any important decisions?"

Remus' heart was suddenly in his throat, beating more rapidly than he thought possible. How could he have forgotten about Sirius' decision to have him in the gallery?

"As a matter of fact," Sirius purred, his smile crooked and sly. He turned to Remus, his chin tilted slightly upwards, a flash of pearly white teeth enclosed between tender lips that Remus wanted to forget about. "I have."

Remus' grip tightened on his napkin and he sank into his chair as the silence and anticipation steadily grew worse.

" _ Well _ ?!" James was on the edge of his seat, clearly not a patient man. Lily had her hand on his shoulder, trying to keep him at bay.

"Remus, I require no less than five pieces in order to begin displaying your work. I would like to have them by our next show, which will be towards the beginning of November. Do you think you can accomplish that for me?"

Remus was at a loss for words. He nodded fervently, unable to get his voice out. 

"Good. I'll have my lawyers work up a contract. You can come by the gallery on Monday to sign it and discuss details."

Remus couldn't believe what was happening. He pinched himself on his forearm, trying to ensure that this was not some kind of vivid dream. As a jolt of pain shot through his arm, a smile spread across his face. 

As far as he could tell, it was all real...


	10. Chapter 10

When Remus walked into  _ Black and White  _ on Monday morning, he was surprised to see people wandering around the gallery. The artist had only ever visited in the evening, when Sirius was alone. Now, in the light of day, with rays of sunshine pouring through the impressive windows, the gallery looked vibrant, striking,  _ alive _ . 

Sirius was standing next to a painting, one that Remus had come to recognize as Lily's work, talking with two individuals whom Remus had yet to meet. 

One was tall and slender, with muscular arms and calves, hidden beneath perfectly umber skin that glowed in the gallery lighting. The person had a shaved head, which emphasized sharp cheekbones, a broad nose, and elegantly plump lips parted in a joyful smile. 

The other person was shorter than the first, with broad shoulders covered by a worn-out leather jacket. A rosy blush spread across creamy skin as they laughed along with something that Sirius said. Their hair was cropped short in the back and sides and swept away from their eyes in the front, a typical hipster undercut.

"Ah! Speak of the devil!" Sirius sang, waving in Remus' direction. The artist glanced behind himself to make sure that it was he whom Sirius was signaling to; this was a definite departure from Sirius' typical treatment of Remus.

"Uh… hello?"

"Mr. Lupin! Come here! I'd like you to meet some clients of ours!"

Remus tensed up, his jaw locking, as he awkwardly shuffled towards Sirius and his two companions. He hadn't expected to have to meet anybody that day, let alone schmooze about his art.

"Uh… hello," Remus muttered as he approached the group.

Sirius' smile was wide and gleaming, but it was different from the smile he had at the restaurant. If Remus hadn't known better, he would have thought nothing of it, but he knew what Sirius Black looked like when he was genuinely happy; this was not it. Sirius' grin was too broad, his mouth too open. The smile didn't reach all the way to his eyes, leaving Remus feeling almost sorry for Sirius. He looked happy enough, but none of it was real.

"Mr. Lupin," Sirius began, putting his hand on the small of the taller person's back. "This is Dorcas Meadowes and their partner Marlene McKinnon." He turned to smile at his friends. "Dor, Marls, this is our newest artist, Remus Lupin."

"Pleasure to meet you," Dorcas said, sticking their hand out to shake Remus'. They had the same posh accent as Sirius, the same coy grin spreading across their face. Remus returned the smile as best he could, nodding politely at the couple.

"Nice to meet you," he said shyly, shaking Dorcas' hand. "I'm Remus… obviously…" He glanced down sheepishly at his shoes.

"We've heard a lot about you," Dorcas continued, their expression remaining calm and polite; they were obviously used to dealing with awkward artist-types. "Here's hoping your work will live up to our expectations!" Dorcas let out a sharp laugh that rang through the air, but they stopped when they noticed the look on Remus' face. "Oh, my dear, I was just kidding! There's no need to be nervous around us, right Marls?"

Marlene, who was standing slightly behind their partner, offered Remus a feeble grin. Remus couldn't help but feel like he would have more in common with this person than anyone else he had met at  _ Black and White _ so far. 

"Dorcas and Marlene are art consultants," Sirius said, ignoring the uncomfortable silence that momentarily settled around their group. "And they always come to us before other galleries, so our artists have an excellent opportunity to have their work sold."

"Art consultant?" Remus cocked his head in confusion.

"It means rich people hire us when they're too lazy to decorate their own houses," Marlene said, drawing out a laugh from their partner. Remus couldn't help but grin; the couple had an exceptional dynamic that worked well for them. 

_ Like you and Sirius. _

Remus immediately shook the thought from his mind, directing his attention back to the couple in front of him.

"Well," Remus said with a smirk, "here's hoping rich people like my stuff."

Dorcas and Marlene both laughed, but Sirius' face remained still, his overly-polite smiling betraying the smallest hint of displeasure. 

"Dorcas, Marlene," Sirius said, cutting through the levity with the sharpness of his voice. "It was wonderful to see you again. Unfortunately, I'm going to have to steal Remus away. We have a few things to go over before we finalize his paperwork."

The group said their goodbyes and Remus found himself led into Sirius' office at the back of the gallery.

"Sit."

Sirius' smile was gone and replaced with his better-than-thou chin tilt and a scowl. 

Remus obeyed his command, sinking into the chair that he first sat in during his portfolio interview, equally as anxious from the look on Sirius Black’s face.

“Mr. Lupin,” Sirius began, his expression stoic and unreadable. Remus swallowed past the lump in his throat. “The paperwork is all drawn up…” Sirius turned to the table next to him where he grabbed a small stack of papers. Remus waited for Sirius to continue what he was saying, but the rest of his sentence never came.

“I feel like there was a  _ but _ in there…”

Remus watched as Sirius’ jaw clenched, his eyes scanning across Remus’ face,  _ reading  _ him. 

“Yes, well…” Sirius’ eyes darted towards the office door, then back to Remus. “Before I take you on as an artist, I need to know that you are not just in this for the money.”

“I… What?” Remus squeezed his eyes together, bringing his hand to the bridge of his nose. When did he ever give that impression? “Of  _ course _ I’m not in this for the money. I mean, it wouldn’t be horrible if I did end up making ends meet, but…” Remus chewed the edge of his lip nervously as he watched Sirius’ face. “What made you ask that?”

“It’s a standard question, Mr. Lupin,” Sirius said, almost defensively. “All of my artists are chosen because they put their art first, before anything. Some artists show here and never sell a single item, and they continue showing here because they  _ want _ to. Because this is the gallery for them.” Sirius paused for a moment, looking Remus dead in the eyes. “Is this the gallery for  _ you _ ?”

“Yes.” 

Remus’ answer was immediate. He hadn’t even had time to process the question before he spoke; his response was almost instinctive. Something inside of him squirmed when Sirius betrayed a hint of a grin at the corner of his mouth, the vaguest essence of a smile in his eyes.

“Well then, Mr. Lupin…” Sirius handed Remus the stack of paperwork and a fountain pen. “Welcome to  _ Black and White _ .”

  
  



	11. Chapter 11

Remus stepped back from his painting, his brush still in his mouth, his palette clutched in his hands. He squinted at the canvas, distorting his face as he tried to examine his work.

It wasn't perfect.

It never was.

It didn't matter; he needed something complete to show Sirius, and his time was running out. Remus turned to look at the clock on his phone, accidentally smearing paint on his sleeve. 

"Shit," he muttered around his paintbrush before taking it from his mouth and depositing it in his cup of muddy coloured water. As Remus bent down to reach for a rag to wipe his clothes, he heard a sharp knock on the door. The artist sighed and rolled his eyes. 

Of  _ course _ he was early.

"Come in, it's open!"

Remus heard the apartment door open and the tell-tale signs of expensive boots on cheap floors. 

"Mr. Lupin."

"Yes, hello Mr. Black," Remus said from the ground, before straightening himself up. 

Remus suddenly found himself eye-to-eye with Sirius Black, and he immediately felt underdressed.

Sirius looked dapper, as always, in his elegant suit, tailored to fit. He had his hair swept from his eyes in a messy bun, the occasional strand falling across his face. Sirius wore a polite smile that gave no indication what he was thinking, and he inclined his chin in the way that Remus had grown to detest.

Remus, on the other hand, was wearing stained jeans and a paint-covered shirt, the uniform of an artist. He didn't know if his hair was messy, as he hadn't looked in a mirror all day, but that in and of itself was indicative of its state.

"Is this your newest piece?" Sirius cocked an eyebrow as he stared at the painting that Remus had spent all day working on. 

"It's nice to see you too," Remus mumbled sarcastically. For someone whose demeanor was all about being prim and proper, Sirius wasn't ever particularly polite to Remus.

"I think we're beyond formalities at this point, Mr. Lupin. Don't you?" Sirius never tore his eyes from the painting as he spoke. Remus smirked at the irony of Sirius' statement before answering his previous question.

"Yes, this is the newest piece. Is it… okay?"

"You tell me."

Remus brought a hand to his face, putting pressure on the bridge of his nose. Sirius was going to be the absolute death of him. 

" _ I'm _ happy with it. Is it suitable for the  _ gallery _ ?" 

"Who is she?" Sirius demanded, disregarding Remus' question.

"It's… uh… it's Lily."

Sirius pursed his lips in thought and Remus mustered all of his effort not to simply  _ stare _ . 

"You do realize she's married to my best friend, correct?"

Sirius' words took Remus by surprise.

"Uh…  _ yes? _ James introduced us. Are you… are you  _ insinuating _ something, Mr. Black?"

Sirius raised an eyebrow and turned to Remus, silvery blue eyes penetrating his defenses. His jaw was set, his expression hard, there was a frosty air about him.

"This seems like the type of painting that comes from a place of…  _ adoration. _ "

"It's a gift," Remus snapped back, forgetting himself for a moment. Sirius Black had a unique knack for getting under the artist's skin. 

Sirius' brow furrowed as his lips narrowed.

"A  _ gift _ ?"

"Yes,  _ Mr. Black. _ A  _ gift _ . Painted for someone who would appreciate a painting of his wife."

"Why are you giving James  _ gifts? _ " Sirius' posture changed slightly as agitation set in. He was standing straighter, taller, beginning to loom over Remus menacingly. Remus squared his shoulders and stood firm.

"To thank him for dinner. It's the least I could do. Why is that any concern of yours?"

Remus watched Sirius' eyes shift as the wheels in his head turned. The gallerist tilted his chin, raising it higher, making the hairs on Remus' neck stand on end. 

"It is my  _ concern _ , Mr. Lupin, because you are now an artist showing in my gallery. Your actions reflect on Black and White as a  _ whole _ ."

Remus felt his fists tightening into balls, his nails digging into his palms. Sirius was being intentionally combative, and Remus wasn't having any of his crap. 

"Well then,  _ Mr. Black _ , it's a good thing that this has nothing to do with your gallery!" Remus' voice was louder than he had intended, and he could see Sirius bristling in response. 

"Seeing as you signed a contract indicating that your artwork will be represented  _ exclusively _ through  _ Black and White _ until after your first solo show, I'm fairly certain this has  _ everything _ to do with my gallery!" 

"For  _ Christ's sake _ !" Remus was shouting now, all decorum tossed out the window. "This was going to be one of the  _ pieces _ for the show! What the hell is  _ wrong _ with you?!"

" _ Mr. Lupin _ !" Sirius' voice was equally as loud and he looked as if he was liable to burst at any moment. His cheeks were flushed red, his eyes a hollow grey. "How, may I ask, is a gallery supposed to make money if it's displaying work  _ that has already been sold _ ?!"

"I thought your gallery wasn't  _ about _ the money! I thought  _ art _ had to be the  _ priority _ ! Could've sworn you said some  _ bullshit _ like that!"

Sirius opened his mouth to retort, but seemed to decide against it. He straightened himself up, took a threatening step towards Remus, and lowered his voice to almost a whisper. 

"You signed a  _ contract _ , Mr. Lupin. A contract that explicitly states that I have a right to terminate it at  _ any time _ , for  _ any reason. _ "

" _ Go ahead _ ," Remus spat. He hated Sirius. He despised everything about him. From his perfectly manicured nails to his thousand dollar suits. From his pale, flawless skin to his hot-and-cold personality. Remus looked into steely grey eyes and  _ hated _ them. " _ Terminate _ me."

The silence hung precariously in the air, thick and palpable.

"You're  _ through _ , Remus Lupin. You will  _ never _ be able to show in London again."

Sirius turned on his heel and marched out of Remus' flat, leaving the artist staring at the closed door in bewilderment and devastation. 

  
  
  



	12. Chapter 12

“What the _fuck_, Sirius?!”

Sirius glanced up from his work to find James storming through the gallery, absolutely fuming. His eyes flashed with anger, his cheeks burning red, he looked like he was about to erupt. Sirius kept his face steady and raised a single eyebrow at his best friend.

“Evening, James.”

“Don’t _"Evening, James”_ me, you _twat_. What the _fuck _did you do?!“

James stopped in front of Sirius, tall and imposing next to Sirius’ slender frame. He always hated how broad and built James was from his years of sport and physical activity; it was the one thing that made Sirius jealous of his brother. 

"Whatever are you talking about?” Sirius asked casually, trying to remain calm. 

“Don’t play stupid with me, Sirius.” James narrowed his eyes. “You know _exactly _what you did.”

Sirius pursed his lips and straightened himself up. He was significantly less threatening than James was in general, but he knew he had a strong presence that was difficult to ignore. 

“Are you referring to the _business decision_ that I made earlier today?” Sirius asked, staring James down. 

“No,” James spat, eyes steady on Sirius’. “I’m referring to the way you treated another _human being_ earlier today. Not everything is about _business_, Sirius. If your head wasn’t so far up Orion’s arse, you’d be able to _see _that!”

Sirius felt as if he had just been punched in the gut, all the wind torn forcefully from his lungs, a dull ringing in his ears. James’ words hurt more than any swing he could have thrown, and Sirius hated him for knowing exactly which buttons to press.

“Don’t you _dare _talk to me that way,” Sirius growled darkly.

“Then don’t _act _like that,” James retorted, as if he hadn’t just thrown the worst insult imaginable at the man he called his brother. 

“I am _not _like them!” Sirius’ voice was loud, much louder than he intended, and the sound reverberated throughout the empty gallery, echoing in his ears, taunting him over and over. 

_I’m not like them._

_I’m not like them!_

“Sirius…” James’ voice was suddenly soft, tender, his eyes warmer than they were before. “Sirius, you know that what you did was wrong… right?”

Sirius tore himself away from James, away from his condescending questions and vague accusations. Away from his false sweetness and pretend concern. He took a step away from his friend, gazing off at nothing in particular.

“Why do you _care _so much?”

“Why do I— Sirius, you’re my _brother_. I love you. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you…” Sirius felt James’ fingers grazing his shoulder and he took another step, increasing the gap between them.

“This has nothing to do with that.”

“You are such an _idiot_! This has _everything _to do with that! Why can’t you _see _it?!” It was James’ turn to shout, to throw words around the gallery, words that bounced off the walls and repeated. 

_Why can’t you see it?_

Why couldn’t he see it? Why did Remus annoy Sirius so much? Why did he treat this one artist so differently than anyone else he had ever met, anyone else who had ever come into the gallery? Why was he always so drawn to him and his soft features and melancholy eyes? What was it about those rough erratic brushstrokes that called to Sirius?

“See _what_?” Sirius asked, fearing the answer, hoping that James wouldn’t say it.

James let out a heavy sigh. 

“Sirius… do you really want to kick him out of the gallery?”

Sirius’ fists clenched at his sides.

_Yes._

_Say yes._

“He’s going to be bad for business,” Sirius muttered towards the ground.

“That’s not what I asked, Sirius. Do you really want to kick him out? To end his career before it even begins?”

_Yes! He’s giving his art away! He’s using James and Lily to get into the gallery! He’s going to take them away from you!_

“I… I don’t know…”

“I think you do, Sirius. I think you know _exactly _how you feel. And I think you’re punishing this kid because of it.”

Sirius’ eyes burned, his chest felt tight, his breathing shallow.

“I’m punishing him because he broke contract…”

Sirius heard James let out a soft chuckle.

“No, you’re punishing him because he stood up to you. Because he’s not letting himself get bowled over. Let’s be real here, Sirius. This is the first artist you’ve met that you can’t control, and you _hate _it.”

“I don’t need to _control _everything, James. I’m not—”

“I know.” James let out another weary sigh. “But sometimes you can’t help it. I just… I just don’t want to see you going down that path. You’re better than that. You’re better than _them_.”

“So… what do I do now?” It was a rhetorical question. Sirius knew exactly what he needed to do; he just hoped that there was some kind of alternative solution. 

“Well,” James began, taking a step closer to Sirius and wrapping an arm around his shoulder. “You can start by calling him up and apologizing.”

“Apologizing for wha—”

“Don’t be an idiot, Sirius.” James rolled his eyes before glancing over to one of his wife’s paintings. “You know, I get it. It’s hard to be around them sometimes.” He inhaled deeply, pulling Sirius slightly closer. “She’s so headstrong, so passionate. Her fire burns so brightly, so hot, it almost hurts just to look at. I love seeing what she creates, what she can come up with… but sometimes it’s just so hard to connect with her…to keep _up _with her…”

“Don’t compare Remus to Lily,” Sirius mumbled, more to himself than anyone else.

“Just… give him a call. Tell him you’re sorry. You don’t want to lose this one, Sirius.”

“Whatever,” Sirius groaned before pulling away. He forced a feeble smile at his friend. “So are we going for dinner or what?”


	13. Chapter 13

_Ring ring._

Remus opened one eye, glancing blearily at his phone on his nightstand.

_1:06 a.m._

Letting out a groan, he rolled over to see who was calling. The number was blocked.

_Ring ring._

“Fuck off,” Remus grumbled at his phone, swatting at it. After the day he had, the last thing Remus needed was a random caller.

_Ring ring._

Remus reached a hand out to attempt to silence his phone, accidentally knocking it off the nightstand in the process. 

_Shit._

_Ring ring._

Remus closed his eyes, listening to the old theme song he had programmed as his ringtone, immensely regretting that decision. It was starting to get annoying.

_Ring ring._

____

Remus opened his eyes to the sun pouring through his open curtains. He groaned as he rolled over, blindly reaching for his phone on the nightstand.

A phone that wasn’t there.

A phone that he had knocked off the nightstand last night.

With a frustrated moan, Remus reached down to the floor and pulled his phone from its cable. 

_6:30_

_One missed call._

Vague images of his room at midnight lilted through his mind as Remus recalled the unanswered phone call. He clicked the voicemail button and brought his phone to his ear.

_“Hello Re— Mr. Lupin. This is Sirius. Black. The— the gallery owner. From Black and White. I'm… I’m calling to uh… talk to you. Of course I’m calling to talk to you. That was stupid. Why else would somebody call someone? People call people to talk…”_

Sirius’ accent was slightly different, less posh and more casual, his words slurred and mumbled. Remus briefly wondered if perhaps this was a different Sirius Black who also happened to own an art gallery.

_“Anyway… uh… I'd… I’d like to talk. If that’s okay. To you, that is. I talk all the time. I just… I’m not just going to talk to myself. Though… that might be what I’m doing now. James? James I’m basically just talking to myself! Is this right? I should hang up… try again…”_

Remus grinned to himself, picturing an inebriated Sirius calling out to James and asking if he was leaving a voicemail properly. 

_“Anyway, I'm… I just… I should probably call again in the… the later. When the sun… is up. I’ll talk to you later. What was I saying? I called you… why did I call you again?”_

_“Sirius, what are you doing?”_

_That was definitely James’ voice in the distance._

_“I’m calling Remus!”_

_“No! Sirius! Get off the phone!”_

_“But you said— ”_

_“Get off the phone, Sirius!!”_

_“Okay, gotta go. Bye, Remus.”_

Remus pulled the phone away from his face, staring incredulously at his screen. If he hadn’t heard it with his very own ears and held proof in his hands, he would never have believed that Sirius Black had left him a drunk voice message. 

Chuckling under his breath, Remus played the message a second time, listening to the sound of Sirius’ voice as he stumbled through his muddled thoughts. Remus quite liked this version of Sirius.

The artist’s thumbs whizzed over the keys as he typed out a message. He headed to one of his blank canvases in the corner of his flat and began painting. He had a few hours before work, and he planned to make the most of it; maybe he’d be able to channel some of these emotions into something productive. 

Eventually, Remus’ phone chimed, pulling him out of the zone and away from his art.

_Remus: Did you get him drunk last night?_

_James: oh god. what did he do??_

Remus smirked at his phone, relishing in the humour of the situation. He was about to respond to James when his phone began to ring.

“Hello?”

“Did he actually _call _you last night?”

Remus couldn’t help but chuckle at the sheer panic in James’ voice.

“Yeah, but I was asleep. He did leave a voicemail, though. Do you want to hear it?”

“_Shit_… how bad is it?”

“Not that bad,” Remus laughed, recalling Sirius’ slurred speech and how relaxed he sounded for once. “He just said he wanted to talk and then… yammered a bit. He didn’t really say anything of consequence.”

“Right… okay… _good_. I’m sorry. I didn’t know he’d call you. I should have stopped him…” James sounded worried. It was endearing.

“It’s fine, James. Don’t worry about it. It really wasn’t that bad… though I suspect he’s not going to be too happy when he remembers…”

“Yeah… here’s hoping he doesn’t.”

Remus chuckled, brushing a loose curl from his eyes. 

“Oh, I am _never _letting him live this down. Posh, arrogant Sirius Black leaving a drunken voicemail for an artist? He deserves to be embarrassed for a bit.”

Remus heard James sigh on the other end of the line. 

“Just… go easy on him, okay?”

“I’m only going to give him what he’s owed…”

“Yeah… that’s what I’m afraid of…” Remus and James laughed together for a moment before James continued. “Alright, I have to head out. Let me know how things go with Sirius, okay?”

“Yeah, for sure. And… uh… thanks again for uh… intervening yesterday. I'm… I’m sorry I brought you into this.”

“No, no! Don’t be sorry! Sirius needed someone to talk some sense into him. That’s not your job, it’s mine. I’m glad you called yesterday. Anyway… I’ll see you around, Remus.”

“Yeah, see ya. Bye, James.”

“Bye!”

The line went dead and Remus returned to his painting, images of James and Sirius floating through this mind. 

What had he gotten himself into?


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Author’s Note: Last time, we got a bit of a glimpse at another side of Sirius. This time, we get to see a totally different side of Remus. ;) Also, I’m sorry this one is so short!))

_Ring ring._

“Hello?”

“Hello, Mr. Lupin…”

Sirius’ voice sounded rough, forlorn, as if he had been dwelling in his emotions all day— as if his voice hadn’t been used properly since the night before.

“Hello, _Sirius_.” Remus grinned, putting emphasis on the way he said the gallery owner’s first name. He was planning to milk this situation for as long as he could. “I’m currently at work. I can’t really talk—”

“This won’t take long.” Sirius’ voice was clipped, each word seemingly causing him pain. “I… I wanted to apologize for my behaviour yesterday. It was… inappropriate and unprofessional.”

“Yes. It was.”

There was a pause. Remus smirked to himself, staring blankly at the calendar on the wall of the break room at work. 

“Mr. Lupin, I—”

“_Remus_.”

“Huh?”

“It’s _Remus_. Mr. Lupin is my father. And _trust me_, I am nothing like him…" 

Another pause. Remus was enjoying this.

"Okay… _Remus_, I think you’re a talented artist and your work would be an asset to the gallery. If you’re willing, we would still love to have you exhibit during our show at the end of the month.”

Remus waited a beat before answering. Of course, his answer was yes, there wasn’t even a remote possibility that he would give up this opportunity to show his work. Sirius didn’t have to know that, though. Remus wanted to make the man squirm for once; to make him feel uncomfortable and have to wait for what he wanted. Remus was not going to make this easy for Sirius Black.

“… _Please_?”

The word sounded foreign in Sirius’ voice.

It was a nice change.

“Fine,” Remus agreed, trying to sound exasperated. “I’ll still show with _Black and White_.” Remus paused for dramatic effect. “Your message last night helped convince me to give you another shot.”

“My… message?”

Remus could almost _hear _the colour drain from Sirius’ face.

“Unfortunately, my break is over. I must be going.” Remus’ grin remained as he glanced at the clock in the corner of the break room. 

“No, wait, what message?!” Sirius was beginning to sound panicked and Remus loved every excruciating moment of it.

“My apologies, _Sirius_. Perhaps if you’re willing to meet me for coffee once my shift is over, this is something we can discuss in person.”

Remus waited for Sirius to respond, casually leaning back in his chair as he imagined the gallerist’s face.

“Fine, yes, whatever. Text me the details. I will… meet with you to discuss things. Have… an enjoyable shift?”

Remus laughed, not bothering to hide it from Sirius.

“Yes, okay. I will try to enjoy my shift at work in the service industry,” he said, rolling his eyes. Sirius really was oblivious sometimes. “Goodbye Sirius.”

Remus hung up before the gallery owner could respond. 

Toying with Sirius had just become Remus’ new favourite game, and he was looking forward to showing the gallerist exactly what real life looked like after his shift in the coffee shop. 


	15. Chapter 15

When Sirius Black walked into the run-down little coffee shop that Remus worked at, he looked extremely out of place. The _Daily Grind_ was one of those cafes that had mismatched furniture and paintings from local artists on the wall. It wasn’t glamorous, not by any stretch of the imagination, but it felt comfortable— _homey_. Remus was willing to bet that Sirius had never set foot in a cafe like this, preferring to get his coffee from Starbucks or a butler in a tuxedo or something. 

The first thing that Remus noticed about Sirius was that he was wearing a suit, like always, with his long hair in a loose bun and his posture stiffer than a board. He glanced around him, scanning the room, until his eyes met with Remus’ and his jaw tightened. Remus forced himself to smile politely, offering the gallery owner a small wave. Sirius made his way over to Remus’ table, his typical saunter less noticeable now that he was in an unfamiliar environment.

“Good evening, Sirius. Thank you for joining me.” Remus kept his tone courteous, his words formal. He knew that he would have trouble relaxing around Sirius. The two of them had a business relationship exclusively; meeting up socially was strange and unprecedented.

Sirius’ mouth twisted into what Remus could only assume was an attempt at a grin. 

“Remus,” he muttered stiffly, giving a firm nod. He glanced down at the empty chair in front of Remus, but remained standing. Remus felt his shoulders tighten in discomfort.

“Please… have a seat.” Remus gestured towards the empty chair and Sirius nodded again before sitting down. “Uh… thanks for meeting me.”

He didn’t know what else to say. Seeing Sirius in the cafe wasn’t quite as hilarious has Remus had anticipated; instead, the two men were both uncomfortable, awkward, struggling to relax in front of one another.

“Yes, well…” Sirius began, before trailing off. “So… is this where you work?”

Remus nodded, his hands tightening around his cup of tea. He didn’t hate his job, but it was exhausting. He was on his feet most of the day and he rarely had enough energy to paint at night. It took everything Remus had in him to drag himself out of bed each morning, ready to face the same mundane routine that slowly ate away at him. 

“It's… nice.” Sirius glanced around at the paintings on the wall. His mouth spread into a thin smile as recognition lit up his face. “There’s a familiar one…”

Remus glanced over his shoulder to find one of his older pieces hanging on the wall behind him.

“Oh… yeah… I forgot that one was there. It's… not my best work.”

“No, it isn’t.”

Remus spun around to cast a glare at Sirius.

“That’s not very polite.”

Sirius cocked an eyebrow and Remus could have sworn he saw the slightest hint of humour in those silvery eyes.

“Why? It’s not. Your current stuff is much better. The paintings that you’ve been producing recently? They’re a different caliber altogether.”

Remus could feel his cheeks heat up as Sirius paid him a rare compliment. It was backhanded, yes, but it was the closest thing to praise that he could hope for from the gallerist.

“Uh… thanks." 

Sirius leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his bangs and brushing them away from his eyes. Remus felt himself mirroring Sirius, finally able to sink into his chair and relax slightly. 

"So…” Sirius began, cutting the silence, his tone gentler than usual. “I… I _am_ sorry. About yesterday. I know I said that earlier, I just… want you to know that.”

Remus chewed the edge of his lip, trying to formulate his response. Every fiber of his being wanted to say _it’s okay_, to brush off what happened the other day as if it had been perfectly normal. That was his immediate response to everything. 

_It’s fine._

_It’s no bother._

_It’s okay._

Although he couldn’t figure out why, there was a part of Remus that didn’t want this to be the same as always. It _wasn’t_ okay. The way Sirius treated him wasn’t fine, and Remus wasn’t going to allow himself to be a doormat. Not _this_ time.

“You were an arse.”

“I know.” Sirius’ gaze dropped to his hands, which were fiddling with a packet of sugar. Remus felt a wave of _something_— was it _affection? _— pass over him as he watched Sirius. He hated it.

“It was rude,” Remus continued, trying to sound upset, to hide the fact that Sirius’ fiddling was in any way endearing. “The way you spoke to me. The way you acted around me. It really was unprofessional.”

“I know.”

Sirius didn’t justify his actions. He didn’t make any excuses, didn’t try to explain anything, he simply sat there as Remus called him out, a distinct look of guilt darkening his silvery blue eyes. 

“You… really shouldn’t treat people that way…”

“I know.”

Remus paused. He brought his tea to his mouth and took a sip, giving himself time to think.

“Why?”

Sirius glanced back up at Remus, his eyes shining like a lost puppy. Remus had to suppress a grin.

“Why what?” The gallerist asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“Why did you… what made you so upset? Why were you so… _cruel_?”

Remus watched as Sirius closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He exhaled slowly as he leaned further back in his chair, as if he knew this question had been coming the entire time. Sirius’ eyes shot open, darting back and forth as they searched Remus’ face. After a moment, Sirius finally spoke.

“You don’t know much about me…” He began, before trailing off. Remus remained silent, assuming that there was more to follow. There was. “I… I do that on purpose. I don’t like getting too close to my artists. It… this has been strange for me; you being friendly with James. It… made things awkward.”

Remus cocked a brow and pursed his lips.

“How so?”

Sirius gave a heavy sigh.

“I don't… really have any family. I have James and Lily. That’s it. They're… they’re all I have.”

Remus was confused. He had read about the Black family before; they were well-established business people, the family name known throughout the city from their various enterprises. Sirius was a member of this prestigious family, how could he say he didn’t have any?

Remus’ face must have betrayed his thoughts, because Sirius let out a dark laugh.

“Before you ask, no, I’m not close with the other Blacks. They're… the only thing we share is the name. I’m not… well, I’m different. We don’t speak anymore. It’s better that way.”

“Oh.” Remus didn’t know how else to respond. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s as much my doing as it is theirs.”

“I see…”

“Anyway…” Sirius’ fingers turned the sugar packet over and over and over. “I'm… very protective of James and Lily…”

Remus scoffed. 

“You weren’t _jealous_, were you?” He asked with a grin. Sirius didn’t respond, and Remus realized his mistake. His smile faded. “…_were_ you?”

Sirius shrugged his shoulders, his focus remaining on the sugar that danced through his hands.

Never in a million years would Remus have expected Sirius Black to be jealous of him. Remus was broke. He worked himself to the bone, barely sleeping, hardly eating, unable to afford anything beyond the absolute necessities. 

“I'm…” Remus began, not sure what it was he wanted to say. “I don’t think James or Lily would ever replace you…”

“No, I know that…” Sirius said to the sugar. “I know that. I just… have trouble believing it…”

The man in front of Remus was someone so different than the Sirius Black he thought he knew. This was someone soft, scared, afraid of losing the people he loved. This was a man who had everything and nothing all at once, who couldn’t fathom going through life on his own. This was someone that Remus _understood_.

“I'm… I’m sorry if I— ”

“No, you’re fine,” Sirius interrupted, glancing back up at Remus, a forced smile on his face. “This was on me. I’ve got a bit of a temper. I lashed out at you. And I’m sorry about that. Anyway…” Sirius’ hand dropped the sugar and brushed his bangs from his eyes. “None of this is important. You just… wanted to know why. So… that’s why.”

“I really am sor— ”

“Can we please drop it?” Some of the ice returned to Sirius’ voice, reflected in the glacial blue of his eyes. Remus gave the gallerist a curt nod, knowing that the subject was a delicate one. 

“Yeah, sure. Consider it dropped.” Remus tried to smile, to keep his emotions hidden from his face. “We’re good, you and I. As far as I’m concerned…”

“Good.”

“Yeah…”

“So…” Sirius mumbled, picking up his sugar packet again, breaking the suddenly awkward silence. “You mentioned a message?”

_Shit._

Remus swallowed past the lump in his throat. When he was still angry at Sirius, he had planned to make the man feel bad about his drunken voicemail. Now that they had connected over a candid heart-to-heart, it didn’t seem right to bring it up.

“It… it was nothing. Honestly…”

Sirius raised a brow skeptically.

“Remus…”

“You… you just left a voicemail is all. It really wasn’t anything… you didn’t say much…”

Remus watched as the colour faded from Sirius’ face, his eyes growing wide with horror. Butterflies erupted in the pit of Remus’ stomach as the icy blue of Sirius’ irises melted through his heart.

_Shit shit shit…_

“It really wasn't—”

“I don’t remember leaving that…” Sirius twisted his sugar in his hand, accidentally breaking the packet and spilling the grains across the table. “_Fuck_!”

“It’s fine! I’ve got it! I can clean it up!" 

As Remus moved to sweep up the mess with his napkin, Sirius slammed his fist against the table, startling the artist and causing the sugar grains to jump.

"Was I drunk?”

Remus blinked. He looked at Sirius, who suddenly looked more angry than nervous.

“Uh… p— possibly? It was only a voic— ”

“Was I _drunk_, Remus?”

Sirius looked— well, _serious_.

“Uh… y— yeah… I… I think so.”

“_Fuck_!” Sirius’ profanities echoed across the cafe, earning him scathing glares from the other patrons. “_Shit_!” He muttered, a bit quieter.

“Really, Sirius. It’s fine. It wasn’t anything! You didn’t say anything embarrassing or anyth—”

“I have to go.”

Sirius was on his feet before Remus could even respond. The artist stared up at the other man, mouth agape, utterly confused.

“Sirius, you don't—”

“I’m sorry, Remus.”

He did sound sorry. His eyes grew soft for a moment as his gaze lingered on Remus. Then, before the artist could get in another word, Sirius was heading towards the door.

“Sirius, wait!”

Remus’ protests came too late, Sirius was already out of earshot. Remus stared as the expensive suit and elegant bun faded from view, wondering what the hell had just happened.


	16. Chapter 16

Remus was lying on his side in bed, staring helplessly at his phone. 

He had sent out two text messages over an hour ago, one to Sirius and one to James:

_Are you okay? I’m sorry if I said anything to upset you. _

_Hey, can you check on Sirius? I think something might be wrong…_

He hadn’t heard back from either of them, and he was definitely well into the realm of worry and panic. James in particular was known for responding to messages immediately; the lack of reply was definitely a cause for concern.

He wanted to paint.

He _needed _to paint.

Remus needed the weight of a brush in his hand. He needed to feel the bristles give way, pressing against a canvas, bending to his whim. He needed the feeling of gouache spreading across the coarse fabric, thick and smooth and pliable. He needed the feeling of _control_, of knowing that what he does has consequences, being able to change and manipulate and determine the result. 

As he lay in his bed, eyeing the unnatural blue glow of his screen, Remus found himself unable to move.

Painting was _everything _to Remus. It was how he expressed himself, how he handled his turbulent emotions. It was the way he worked through problems and came up with solutions. Why couldn’t he get up and _do _it?

With an exhausted groan, Remus rolled over, away from his phone. He stared at the blank wall in front of him, thoughts of piercing blue eyes flitting through his mind, consuming him. 

Sirius had looked so worried, so anxious, Remus had never seen him that way before. He wanted to call the gallery owner, find out what he did wrong, make things right again. 

Things had been going _so well_.

Sirius was open and soft, honest, willing to apologize and let Remus in. 

_Beep beep._

Remus flipped over so quickly in his bed, he nearly tossed his phone to the floor, grabbing it just in time. He frantically checked the screen, silently praying that James or Sirius had responded.

_Wanna go check out that new show at Lonsdale tomorrow? It’s opening night!_

Remus felt a pang of disappointment as he looked at Lily’s message and a wave of guilt that he wasn’t excited to hear from her. Remus and Lily had grown closer recently, and under normal circumstances, he would have been happy to receive that text.

As he stared at his phone, Remus couldn’t help but wish that it had been Sirius who had messaged him.

_Sure. Sounds good. What time?_

Remus sent his response and continued staring at his phone, desperately willing himself to stop thinking of pale skin and inky black hair, a crooked smile and mischievous silver eyes. 

For some _stupid _reason, he missed Sirius…


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Author’s note: I AM SO SORRY. I have no idea how this happened… I was just writing and then one thing led to another and now this is a thing. I’m sorry!!!))

“_You let me get drunk?!_”

James let out a weary sigh as he pulled his phone away from his ear and gave Lily a _look_. She raised her eyebrow and he mouthed the word _Sirius _at her. Lily rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to her meal, trying to hide her obvious smile.

“Yes, hello Sirius. Good to hear from you.”

“Shut it with that _bullshit_. Did you or did you not let me get drunk last night?”

James rolled his eyes at Lily and she chuckled softly. 

“I didn’t _let _you do anything, Sirius. You are an adult, contrary to the way you’ve been acting recently. I do not control your actions.”

“_Fuck off_, James.” Beneath Sirius’ anger was a distinct tone of hurt, and James regretted his sarcasm. “Why did you let me drink so much?”

“Sirius… do you not remember anything from last night?”

“That’s the fucking _problem_, Potter! _No_! I don’t remember _shit_!”

“Gimme a sec, Sirius…”

James got up from his seat at the table. He looked down at his wife and smiled weakly, placing a hand on her shoulder. She gazed up at him, concern creasing her brow. He covered the mouthpiece of his phone as he bent down to kiss Lily on the cheek.

“Sirius needs me. Gonna take this call in the study, okay?”

Lily nodded and watched her husband as he left the dining room. 

James headed over to his study, the one room in his house that was wall-to-wall wood paneling, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and decorated exactly as James pleased. It was the one room that Lily chose not to have a say in. She had a specific aesthetic, and as an artist, a keen eye for design. James wanted his study to look like an old hunting lodge, just as Fleamont Potter’s study was, and Lily had scoffed at the notion.

_“I don’t want a dead animal head on my wall, James!”_

In the end, Lily had caved, allowing James’ lack of taste to reign in his study. 

James sat down at the ridiculously ornate wooden desk that he had inherited from his father, feeling the crinkle and groan from the leather armchair. He picked up an old ivory letter opener and twirled it in his hands as he spoke.

“Hey, I’m somewhere more private now. What’s going on Sirius? Is everything okay?”

“No! Nothing’s okay!”

James knew that Sirius had a penchant for being dramatic, so he wasn’t entirely sure if this was an exaggeration or if Sirius was genuinely in trouble.

“Sirius, is anybody _injured_? Are you _safe_?”

James’ concern must have come through his voice, because there was a pause on the other end of the line. When Sirius spoke again, his voice was a tad calmer.

“No, I'm… I’m fine. No one is hurt. I just… please tell me what happened last night…”

James took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair, staring off at the deer head mounted to the wall across from him. In the back of his mind, he could hear Lily’s voice complaining about how _straight _he was. 

“We had an argument about Remus… do you remember that part?”

“Yeah, obviously…” Sirius sounded irritated.

“Okay, well, after that, we went to the pub. Had some food, a couple of pints… you… uh…” James glanced down at his letter opener, suddenly flooded with a wave of guilt. “You kept insisting on ordering more. More rounds… more shots…”

“_James_…” Sirius’ voice was almost pleading. “Why did you—”

“You’re an _adult_, Sirius!” James repeated, more to convince himself than anything else. He knew that Sirius was never a master of impulse control. He also knew that Sirius needed to hear _no _sometimes. “You just… you kept saying you were _fine_. And… and that you needed it. You begged me!” James knew he was starting to sound defensive, which wasn’t a good position to be in while talking to Sirius.

“James, I _trusted _you!”

“Hey! This isn’t on me, Sirius! You have to take responsibility for your own actions!”

“_Fuck_, James!” Sirius’ voice was choked up and James knew that something was very wrong.

“Sirius? Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“No, no, I just…” There was a thump in the background. Probably the sound of Sirius slamming his fist against something.

“_Sirius_…”

“James… It’s been… shit, it’s been almost a year since I last _drank_…”

“Fuck off, Sirius. I saw you have wine the other night.”

“James…” Sirius sounded off. “James, I haven’t been drunk in… what I mean is… mate, it’s been _ages_. I’ve been trying… I was… I was staying _sober_…”

There was a pause, a moment where the phone went silent and James stared helplessly at his hands.

“I… I didn’t know…”

“_Bullshit_. You must’ve noticed! We used to go out all the time!”

“I… I thought that since you were planning to open the gallery… and you just got busy…”

“You knew I didn’t want to end up like them… and with everything that had _happened_…”

“I didn’t realize that meant—” James let out a sigh. Who was he kidding? Of course he had noticed. He thought that Sirius cutting back on his partying was just a sign of maturity— which it was, in the end— James simply didn’t put two and two together. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Sirius mumbled, sounding decidedly not fine. 

“No… no, it’s not. I… I should’ve asked you… I should have said something…”

“No, I…” Sirius took a deep breath and James could hear the shakiness in his voice. “I should have told you. You’re my brother… I should have just _told _you…”

James wanted to reach through the phone and pull Sirius close, squeezing him tightly like they always used to when things got too real. He fumbled with the letter opener, trying to find the right words of comfort.

“I’m sorry, Sirius…”

“It’s fi— ”

“No, I'm… I’m really sorry. It won’t happen again. I’m going to help you… I’m gonna make sure it never happens again.”

There was silence for a moment before Sirius responded.

“Thanks, mate…”

“Yeah…” James twirled the ivory between his fingers, his eyes lingering on the subtle variation of colour. “So… you and Remus…”

“I met with him.” Sirius’ answer was clipped, curt. James wanted to push, but he knew that Sirius needed to recount things at his own pace. “I… I apologized.”

“Good… I’m glad… are you two… good now?”

James heard Sirius sigh. 

“I don’t know. Maybe? I just… I’m angry. I'm… I’m mad at myself. For failing.”

“You didn’t _fail_, Sirius. It was one night… one night doesn’t undo a year’s worth of work…”

“You want to tell that to _Regulus_?”

James felt his chest tighten as he suddenly remembered what happened almost a year ago— the real reason that Sirius stopped drinking. 

“Shit… I… I completely forgot.”

“I’m glad you got to forget. I didn’t.”

James couldn’t believe that it had been almost a _year_. 

He couldn’t believe that he _forgot_. 

“I’m so— ”

“I swear to god, Potter. If you’re about to apologize, I’m gonna go over there and give you something to be sorry about.”

“I am, though.”

“Shut it. I don’t want to hear it. You didn’t know, it’s _fine_. I just… I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Just… I need you to keep me from messing up again.”

“I will, Sirius. I promise.”

“Good. Now… tell Lils that I say hi. And… and get some rest. I’m not mad at you, I just… it’s been a long day.”

“Alright… go to bed. Get some sleep… go _easy _on yourself. And… I’m sorry. Again.”

“_Goodbye_, James.”

Sirius hung up before James had a chance to say anything. He looked up from the letter opener in his hands to find Lily peering through the glass doors. He tried to smile at his wife, but he couldn’t. Lily knocked on the doorframe and James nodded.

“Hey…” She said softly as she opened the door. “Everything okay?”

“No…” James mumbled to himself. “I… I think I messed up…”

“Oh, James…” Lily walked over to her husband and put her hands around his neck, over the back of the chair. He leaned into the touch, relishing the warmth. “What happened, dear?”

“Lils… did you know Sirius had been sober for a year?”

James felt Lily kiss the top of his head.

“I figured as much, after what happened with Reg…”

“_Shit_.” James closed his eyes. “I didn't… nobody told me. I didn’t know… I didn’t _notice_.”

“That’s not on you, James. You’re not expected to notice everything.” Lily pulled away, walking around the chair to face her husband. “Come, let’s talk about this. Tell me everything. We can work through this…”

James stared up into beautiful green eyes and his smile finally returned. He really was the luckiest man in the world. 


	18. Chapter 18

“Thanks for joining me for dinner!" 

Lily’s voice was light and airy, her posture relaxed and her smile bright. In many ways, she was the opposite of Sirius.

Remus quickly pushed the thought from his mind, choosing to focus on the present. He still hadn’t heard back from Sirius or James, and it was his goal for that evening not to bring them up in conversation. Lily was her own person; she was more than just James’ wife and Sirius’ friend. She needed to be treated as such. If she chose to raise the subject, Remus wouldn’t be opposed to it, but he refused to ruin a fun evening with memories from last night.

"Thanks for inviting me. It’s not often that I get to go out for dinner with friends.”

_It’s not often that I can afford to._

Lily had insisted on buying Remus dinner that night, refusing to take _no _as an answer. She promised that Remus could return the favour once he sold his first painting at the gallery. 

_“And you will sell one, trust me!”_

Remus admired Lily for her optimism, even if he didn’t share it. 

“This is great! I’m glad you’re here!” Lily’s voice broke through the fog in Remus’ mind. He looked up into her emerald eyes. To Remus, they were _summer_. They were the bright green of rolling fields, as warm and sunny as a perfect August day, as soft and gentle as a summer breeze. He couldn’t get enough of Lily’s eyes. He’d have to use that colour in a painting some day. 

“Yeah… me too…”

“You seem off, Remus. What’s the matter?”

Remus’ gaze drifted down to his hands. Was he that obvious? Was his face betraying all of his emotions?

“I’m fine. Really. Let’s just have a fun evening talking about art.”

“You sure?” Lily sounded concerned as she reached a hand across the table and placed it gently over Remus’. “I’m here if you need to talk… does it have anything to do with what happened the other day?”

Remus looked up and furrowed his brow. How much did Lily know?

“What did James tell you?” He asked suspiciously, a subtle grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. Lily smiled in return.

“He said you had a painting for us and that Sirius flipped when he found out. Which was stupid, because Sirius can be a jealous twat sometimes.”

Remus’ grin grew wider.

“Yeah… that just about sums him up.”

Lily chuckled, removing her hand from Remus’ and brushing a loose strand of auburn behind her ear. 

“He’s more than that, though, despite what the past few weeks have shown you…”

Remus responded with a laugh of his own, recalling the look in Sirius’ eyes at the coffee shop. He had seemed so apologetic, so genuine, so different from the _gallery owner_ version of Sirius. 

“I don’t doubt that…”

“I’m sorry about him, by the way. I swear, he’s not usually like this. He’s a really nice guy…”

Remus laughed affectionately at Lily’s embarrassment. 

“You don’t need to apologize oh his behalf. It’s fine, I get it. Anyway, he… he actually apologized himself. It was… kind of sweet…" Remus’ mind flickered briefly to the previous night. “Well… Until he ran away, that is…”

“Ran away?” Lily quirked a brow at Remus, suddenly confused. Lily must not have heard about that part of the evening. 

“Yeah, we had met up at my work last night and chatted a bit. Things were going fine, but he kind of got super upset all of a sudden and left the coffee shop without a word. I…” Remus’ eyes drifted to his phone, sitting upside down at the edge of the table. “I haven’t heard from him since.” 

“Oh no… that’s awful…” Lily’s face was a cross between pity and concern. Her shoulders dropped and here eyes grew wide. “Do… do you remember what it was that made him upset?”

Remus shrugged. Did he?

“Sort of? He had left me this… voicemail. It was kind of cute, actually, not gonna lie. He had gotten drunk and called and just started talking about how he wanted to talk with me. It really wasn’t a big deal, but it seemed to throw him for a loop…” Remus noticed a distinct flash of panic on Lily’s face and his shoulders stiffened. “What? What is it, Lily?”

Lily pursed her lips, speaking more to herself than to Remus.

“That explains a lot…”

“What does it explain? What’s going on?” Remus leaned forward anxiously. Lily seemed to have some answers to the questions that Remus had been asking himself all day. 

“Yesterday… Sirius called James… He was really stressed…”

_Shit._

“What did I do?”

Lily reached across the table again, giving Remus’ hand a little squeeze.

“Nothing! Oh, Remus, you did nothing wrong, I promise. This is… well, it’s complicated…”

Remus chewed his lip, pondering how much he should press the subject. 

“Is it… something you’re allowed to share with me?”

Lily let out a sigh, pulling herself away from Remus and gazing down at the napkin in her lap.

“It’s a very long story…”

“We’ve got a long dinner…”

Lily smiled gently, that frustrating look of _pity _ever present. 

“Well… it started when Sirius was young. You… you know he’s not close with his family, right?”

The conversation from the previous evening reverberated in Remus’ mind.

“Yeah, he mentioned that last night. I didn’t realize…”

“Yeah…” Lily let out a soft sigh before continuing. “When they were teenagers, Sirius ran away from home and went to live with James. James’ parents basically adopted Sirius. The boys have been inseparable ever since.”

“Wow… I had no idea…” Remus didn’t realize the extent of Sirius and James’ relationship. He knew they were close, but from the way Lily was describing it, the boys were practically brothers. It was no wonder Sirius was so jealous of James and Remus’ budding friendship.

“Anyway…” Lily continued. “One of the main reasons that Sirius left was his parents. They were… well, they were cruel to him. They drank. A lot. It… never ended well…”

“Shit… I’m… That…that sucks…” Remus didn’t know what else to say. He wasn’t entirely sure there was anything to say. How does a person respond when they find out someone they know had a rough childhood?

“Yeah…” Lily agreed, keeping here eyes averted. She shrugged her shoulders and continued her explanation. “When Sirius left, his younger brother stayed home. He became their prodigal son, the son that the Black family always wanted. He took after his father in many ways… Including the alcohol.” Lily picked up the glass of water in front of her and brought it to her lips, taking a long, slow sip, as if to regain her composure. “A few years ago, Regulus… that’s Sirius’ brother… he went to rehab, joined AA, decided to make a change in his life. It was really great. We got a lot closer with him… the boys reconnected… Then about a year ago…”

Lily paused. Emerald eyes sparkled with lingering tears, threatening to fall at any moment. Remus felt a lump in his throat and stinging in his eyes as he imagined how difficult this must be for Lily to recount. 

“You don’t have to keep going…”

Lily wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and smiled up at Remus. 

“No, no, it’s fine. It’s just… a bit hard to talk about.” She let out a strained laugh, trying to sound casual. “A year ago, Regulus got into a huge fight with his parents. He let himself go that night, relapsing, falling back to his old habits and coping mechanisms… He… he got into an accident.”

“_Shit…_" That seemed to be the only word Remus knew that evening. "Is he…” Remus trailed off, unsure how to phrase his question. Lily caught on to what he was asking. 

“He’s alive… he’s just… not the same.” Lily took another drink of water, preparing herself for what came next. “The accident left him unable to do a lot of the things he used to… he turned bitter… claimed he was broken. We’re not as close as we once were. Every time we try to reconnect, he pulls further away. Sirius and Regulus haven’t spoken in months… “

“God… that awful….”

Remus couldn’t imagine the pain and struggle that Sirius had gone through. Being an only child, Remus knew he would never fully comprehend Sirius’ situation and the hurt he experienced.

“Sirius stopped drinking after the accident. He still has a glass of wine on occasion, a pint of beer, but he hasn’t gone out, gotten drunk, in almost an entire year.”

Remus closed his eyes, knowing exactly why Sirius had left the cafe in such a panic.

“Until two nights ago…”

“Until two nights ago.” 

“And then I brought it up in conversation. _Fuck_, I’m such an idiot.”

Lily reached forward, gripping Remus’ hand firmly. She looked him straight in the eyes, penetrating his defenses.

“You’re not an idiot, Remus. You didn’t know.” She said it with such conviction, Remus almost believed it. 

_Almost._

“…It was my fault,” Remus mumbled to himself.

“How was it your fault?”

“We got into a fight. He… he must have drank because he was angry at me. I made him so mad that he—”

“Stop.” Lily’s tone was harsh as her grasp on Remus’ hand tightened. “Listen to me: this is not your fault. Sirius made a mistake. That’s on him. He’s struggling with it right now, but that doesn’t make it your fault. The best thing we can do is support him and be there for him.”

“I guess…”

“No. There’s no “I guess”, Remus. This is not your fault. You need to know that…” 

Remus heard Lily’s words, but his mind kept racing back to their argument in his flat.

“But if he hadn’t—”

“_No_. Stop it. None of that. Remus, you and Sirius have had a bit of a strained relationship thus far, but he really does enjoy your company. I can assure you of that. You just have to be understanding that he might be a bit off for the next while. Just… be there if he needs you and he’ll reach out to you when he’s ready… Okay?” 

Lily looked so _earnest_, it was hard to argue with her. She seemed to believe that none of this was because of Remus, despite the evidence to the contrary. How could she be so sure?

“Yeah…” Remus muttered, knowing that there was no point in arguing against the feisty woman before him. “Yeah, okay.”

“Good. Don’t worry, Remus. He’s not mad at you.”

Remus raised an eyebrow skeptically at Lily.

“You sure?” 

“Positive. He doesn’t see this as your fault at all. As far as he’s concerned, he’s worried that he upset you.”

“What? _Upset _me? How? Why would he think that?”

“That’s what I keep telling him. Now we just have to wait for him to believe me. Things will be fine in a few days. The dust will settle and you two will be able to get back to… whatever it is that you call normal…”

Remus felt himself smile despite the situation.

_Normal._

What was normal these days anyway?

“I… I hope it can be a bit better than that…”

“Yeah, Sirius had been a bit of a prick lately,“ Lily said with a grin, the humour finally returning to her expression. "Well then, hopefully things can get better than normal… For both of you.”

"Yeah… hopefully…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remus: I don't want to talk about Sirius tonight  
Also Remus: OKAY CAN WE TALK ABOUT SIRIUS?!?


	19. Chapter 19

Remus walked into _Black and White_ carrying two coffee cups from work, his knuckles turning white from the tightness of his grip. He was terrified, to say the least. This would be his first time seeing Sirius since their evening at the cafe, and Remus wasn’t entirely sure if his presence was desired.

“Uh… Sirius? M— Mr. Black? Are… are you here?”

Of _course _he was there. Sirius ran the gallery himself. If he wasn’t there, the door wouldn’t be unlocked. Remus felt stupid asking his question aloud, but the response he got put him at ease.

“Yeah, I’m here, Remus. I’ll be right out.”

_Remus._

So they were still on a first name basis. That was a good sign. 

It took a moment, but Sirius eventually emerged from his back office, looking rather worse for wear. His hair was left loose around his shoulders, dark inky tresses spilling over his unbuttoned collar. He looked tired; more tired than Remus felt. More tired than he had ever looked before.

“I… uh… I brought coffee…”

“What are you doing here, Remus?”

The tone of Sirius’ voice didn’t sound harsh or accusatory; it was filled with exhaustion and melancholy, but it wasn’t _rude_, which was a surprise.

“Oh…” Remus glanced down at the paper cups in his hands, as if his reason for being at the gallery was obvious. “I… brought coffee,” he repeated. “Cappuccino, skim milk, sprinkle of cinnamon?”

Remus watched as a slow smile bloomed across Sirius’ face, lighting him up, finally revealing a hint of the gallery owner that Remus had come to know the past few weeks. Sirius walked towards Remus, straightening his posture and brushing hair out of his eyes.

“How’d you know?”

Remus shrugged, offering Sirius a friendly grin.

“A little birdy told me.”

Sirius rolled his eyes and graciously accepted Remus’ peace offering. The artist watched as Sirius’ shoulders visibly relaxed with the first sip of coffee, a hint of colour returning to his sallow cheeks. Sirius turned his gaze towards a painting on the wall, both hands grasping the cup, as if to absorb its warmth and energy. 

“Well… remind me to thank her later.”

“I’m fairly certain_ I_ brought the coffee here,” Remus said, mostly joking. He took a sip from his own cup of tea, letting the spicy warmth from the chai trickle down and heat him up from the inside.

Sirius remained focused on the painting before him.

“Thank you, Remus. Not… not just for the coffee… but for coming. Here. I… appreciate it.”

“Okay, who are you and what have you done with Sirius Black?” Remus teased, attempting to lighten the sudden weight of the situation, trying to deter the looming darkness that threatened its way into their thoughts. 

Sirius didn’t answer for a moment. He stood and stared at the painting, one of Lily’s pieces by the looks of it, before finally giving Remus a response.

“This… _this _is the real Sirius Black.”

Remus tore his eyes away from mercurial pools of despair, so deep and turbulent, the artist could drown in them if he wasn’t careful. He directed his attention to the same painting, the same blues and greys of Sirius’ eyes popping out from the canvas. 

“Well…” Remus muttered to the painting, twisting his cup around between his fingers. “Hello Sirius Black. I'm— I’m Remus Lupin.”

Remus heard a sharp exhale of breath beside him— almost a laugh, but not quite. At least he could help bring some levity into their conversation.

“So…” Sirius began, before taking another sip of coffee. “How much did she tell you?”

Remus pondered the question, trying to find an appropriate way of answering it.

“She… uh… mentioned your brother. And… and you and James. She explained why you left the cafe the other day, why you seemed so upset…”

Sirius closed his eyes and furrowed his brow. When he opened them, there was a hint of pain still etched into his features. 

“And where does that leave us?”

Remus turned to look at Sirius, unsure what exactly the man was asking him.

“Wh— what do you mean?”

“Are you… still interested in showing here? Did you still want to… to work with me?”

“_Of course._” Remus’ response was immediate. There was no question in his mind: _Black and White_ was the gallery that Remus wanted his first show to be in. He wanted Sirius to run it, curate it, put the event together. He wanted Lily and James to be there. This was the gallery for him. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Sirius’ eyes drifted down to his coffee cup, his shoulders folding in on themselves ever so slightly. 

“You’re not worried that the erratic drunk is going to ruin things for you? Cause you too much trouble?”

“I— _what_?” Remus took a step towards Sirius; he considered reaching out, taking hold of the man, showing a sign of affection, but he thought better of it. Instead, he simply looked at Sirius, his voice measured, his posture firm. “None of those thoughts ever crossed my mind. I— I want to show here because you’re passionate. You have drive. You’re confident… you're— you’re a good gallerist.”

_You’re annoying as all hell, but you know what you want from life and you aren’t afraid to go for it. Someone like me could learn a lot from someone like you. You’re fascinating. An enigma. And I need to figure you out…_

“And you push me to do better. I’m producing better art now than I ever have before. You have a keen eye and you give good direction.”

Remus waited for Sirius to respond, but the man simply stared ahead at the painting before him. The silence loomed over them as Remus watched the ghost of the man he thought he knew slowly fading into nothingness. 

It was a few minutes before Sirius eventually spoke, his voice echoing eerily across the empty gallery.

“You don’t have to lie to me to make me feel better.”

His words were soaked in bitterness, his expression crestfallen. He never once tore his gaze away from the painting.

Remus took a gulp of tea, weighing his next words very carefully.

“I don’t lie.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before continuing. “You don’t know me very well yet, but that’s something you should remember for the future. I _don’t _lie.” Another pause, another sip of tea. “I had enough of that growing up, I don’t need it in my life.”

The slightest hint of a smile passed over Sirius’ face.

“You also had a shitty family?

"I’m an artist,” Remus mused with a dark chuckle, “Do you know any that don’t?”

Sirius’ smile grew as he rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, one or two. But you make a valid point.”

Remus brought his cup to his lips and tilted it back, draining the remaining contents and deliberating his words. 

“So…” he began after a moment. “Where do we go from here?”

For the first time since the conversation started, Sirius shifted his focus, his eyes settling on Remus’ frame silhouetted in the fading evening light. 

“Where do _you _want it to go?”

Remus closed his eyes and pretended to take a sip from his drink, despite the fact that it was now empty. He needed time to think. Was Sirius talking about the gallery? Was Sirius asking about Remus’ desire to show his art and work together in a professional setting? Or did the question go deeper than that?

Where did Remus want things to go?

“I…” Remus opened his eyes. He stared at Lily’s painting, pretending not to see the way Sirius’ gaze bore into him, pretending not to think about the swirling blues and greys, the perfection of colour, they way they shifted with each emotion. “I want to make sure that our show next month is your best one yet.”

“Well then…” Sirius said softly, his voice relaxing, his tone sounding more and more familiar to Remus. “We’d better get to work. There’s only a few weeks left…”

Remus turned to look at Sirius and felt his cheeks flush at the smile playing on the gallery owner’s lips. The artist quickly looked down at the paper cup twisting between his fingers, trying not to read into the situation any more than necessary. 

“I’d better get home then…” Remus told his cup, trying to keep his voice steady and desperately willing his cheeks to stop feeling so warm. “I still have two more pieces to paint…”

“Yes, well…” Sirius muttered. From the corner of his eye, Remus could see the gallery owner shifting his weight from foot to foot. “I’ll be in touch. I’d love to see your progress if— if that’s okay…?”

Since when did Sirius _ask _for things instead of demanding them?

“Sure, yeah… that sounds… good. I'll… see you around, Sirius.”

Remus glanced up and smiled, immediately regretting his decision. The look on Sirius’ face was tender, affectionate. Somehow, he looked even more handsome like this. Remus hated it. 

The artist shoved his hand forward, offering it for a shake. Sirius hesitated before reaching out and grasping Remus’ hand firmly. The two men had shaken hands a dozen times at this point; there was something frustratingly different about this one, and it lingered a beat too long.

Remus pulled his hand away and spun on his heels before Sirius could stop him. 

“I’ll see you around, Sirius!” He called over his shoulder before making a beeline to the door. 

“Oh… okay… T— Thank you, Remus. For… for everything!”

Before he knew what was happening, Remus was outside in the crisp autumn air, trying not to think about the way Sirius’ perfect lips wrapped so delicately around his name or how badly Remus wanted to find out what those lips tasted like. 

What was _wrong _with him?


	20. Chapter 20

_Knock knock knock_

Remus was startled from his painting by the sudden knock at the door, nearly dropping his brush on the floor.

“_Jesus_,” he swore under his breath, before straightening himself up and suppressing a grin. “Come in, it’s open!”

Remus adjusted his shirt and wiped his face with the back of his hand, hoping that he didn’t have any paint there.

“You know,” a voice said from behind the artist, “you really shouldn’t leave your door unlocked. Not in this neighbourhood…”

Remus took a deep breath and turned around, trying not to seem as eager as he felt. He gave a casual shrug and cocked an eyebrow. 

“Would you rather I get paint all over my door handle?”

Sirius had a wry grin spreading across his lips. He was wearing another expensive suit and his hair was tied back in his usual loose bun, but his demeanor was much warmer than the first time he had visited Remus’ apartment. The two men had spent the last couple of weeks meeting at _Black and White_ to discuss the upcoming show, slowly breaking through one another’s defenses.

“I mean…” Sirius offered, sweeping his bangs from his eyes. “If it keeps you from getting murdered, than I’d say it’s better for business.”

Remus knew Sirius’ sense of humour by this point; as dry as his tone was, Sirius was definitely joking.

“What are you talking about?” Remus teased, returning his attention to the canvas and away from the gallery owner. “Everyone knows the value of your art goes up if you die. More so if that death is gruesome.” Remus grinned to himself as he heard Sirius chuckle. The artist enjoyed making the other man laugh, and it was a skill that he was quickly improving at.

“Well in that case,” Sirius droned, approaching Remus and positioning himself right behind the artist. “Maybe I should take a hit out on you? Make a bit more money?”

“Not funny,” Remus muttered, trying to hide his grin. “At least let me have one gallery show before my tragic demise.”

“Fair enough!” Sirius let out a rare full-bodied laugh that bounced around the tiny flat and settled deep in the pit of Remus’ stomach, stirring up the butterflies that had finally settled. “What have you got to show me today?”

Remus turned around to face the gallery owner, only to find the man closer than he had assumed. Sirius was standing a mere foot away from Remus, his back perfectly straight, his chin lifted slightly, the stark blue of his eyes clearly visible. Remus swallowed past the lump in his throat, trying to keep his nerves steady. He could feel the electricity in the room, vibrating and palpable, radiating off the two of them. 

Remus almost preferred when they were fighting; at least then he could say that his anxiety around Sirius was caused by hatred. There was no denying it at this point: Sirius was attractive and Remus was molten beneath the heat of his stare. 

“I… uh… yes. Wait… what?”

The corner of Sirius’ mouth twisted up and Remus wanted to wipe that smirk off the man’s face— whether by punching him or snogging him, he couldn’t be entirely sure. 

“I said…” Sirius paused for dramatic effect. It seemed that everything he did was for dramatics in one way or another. “What have you got to show me today?”

Remus nodded, taking a step back— away from Sirius— and collecting his composure. He gestured to the painting that he had been working on, accidentally splattering paint from the brush that he had forgotten was in his hand.

“Ah, _shit_…” Remus mumbled, leaning in towards Sirius to see if he had accidentally gotten paint on his suit. He knew he’d never be able to afford a replacement. He hastily inspected Sirius’ jacket before looking up and feeling his breath catch in his lungs. Sirius’ smile was unlike any that Remus had ever seen before; it was almost lewd, predatory, absolutely captivating. Remus took a step back, his eyes dropping immediately to his feet as his ears burned, threatening to betray his emotions. 

“S— sorry,” Remus muttered, turning his attention back to his painting. 

“Don’t worry about it.” Sirius’ voice was liquid honey, trickling languidly down Remus’ spine, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to rise.

“_So_,” Remus practically squeaked, trying his best to redirect his mind away from the feel off Sirius’ breath of the back of his neck. “Um… _art_. My art. It's… uh… here.”

_Smooth._

Sirius didn’t seem to mind Remus’ awkward stammering. In fact, if Remus didn’t know better, he’d think that Sirius was enjoying the situation. 

“Yes. It’s a good piece, Remus." 

_Again with the Remus._

Remus hated how much he loved hearing his name in Sirius’ voice.

"Thanks,” Remus mumbled, keeping his gaze affixed to the painting and his hands clenched in tight little balls. “Is it okay for the show?”

“It’s perfect.”

The words rang through Remus’ mind as the two men stood and stared at the painting. _Perfect_. That was a word he had never expected to hear from Sirius Black. 

_Perfect_.

“Well…” Remus started, straightening himself up and turning around to finally face the gallery owner. Sirius’ eyes were still focused on the painting, darting back and forth as they scanned the work. His mouth was slightly parted, as if he was completely lost in thought. Remus forced himself to look away, trying to keep his mind off of Sirius’ lips and how they would feel against his own. “Was there… anything else you needed?”

“Oh… uh…” Sirius looked slightly startled at the question and glanced down at Remus, his eyes coming into focus. “No… No, this is fine, Remus. Thank you.”

The gallery owner brushed a strand of hair from his face and turned around abruptly.

“I guess I’ll see you around, Sirius…”

Sirius turned his head to look back at Remus, giving the artist a once-over. His eyes drifted down to Remus’ shabby, hole-ridden socks, up his stained jeans, his baggy shirt, and finally settling on his eyes. Remus was suddenly self-conscious about how he looked compared to the gallery owner. The smile that spread across Sirius’ face, however, seemed to indicate that he didn’t mind the artist’s aesthetics.

“Yeah,” Sirius purred, his grin growing wider and a flush spreading across his ivory cheeks. “I’ll see you around, Remus.” 

With that, Sirius existed Remus’ apartment, and the artist was left alone to ponder their interaction and what Sirius’ smile really meant.


	21. Chapter 21

“So…” Lily began, leaning forward in her seat across the table from Remus. She had her hands wrapped around her tea and a warm smile on her lips. “You excited for the art show?”

The two of them had met up for coffee, but Remus was having a hard time keeping himself together. With his show opening in a matter of days and the constant thoughts of Sirius’ insufferably smug face, Remus was having trouble focusing on anything.

The artist groaned as he leaned forward and rested his face in his palms. He heard Lily chuckled softly, much to his dismay.

“No,” he mumbled into his hands before lifting his head and glaring at his friend. “I’m not ready. Not even a little bit. I still have another piece to make, and less than a week to do it! Remind me again why I agreed to any of this?”

Lily rolled her eyes and tucked a loose strand of auburn behind her ear.

“Don’t worry so much, Remus, you’ll be fine. From what I’ve heard, the pieces you’ve made are great. People are going to love them.”

“Easy for you to say,” the artist groaned. “You’ve done this before.”

“Exactly,” Lily countered with a smirk. “So I know what I’m talking about. Just… relax. Don’t let this stress you out.” She paused for a moment to take a sip from her paper cup. “Are you at least excited for the Halloween party tomorrow?”

With the mention of the party, Remus let out another disgruntled noise, letting his head fall to the table. Lily laughed and gave her friend a nudge with her foot.

“Cheer up, Remus. It’ll be fun!”

“That’s one word for it,” Remus complained, his voice muffled by his arms. “Two parties in one week. You’re going to be the death of me, Lily.”

Remus wasn’t fond of social gatherings, particularly parties, but that wasn’t the only reason he was dreading Halloween. As the days passed and Remus’ art show at _Black and White_ steadily approached, Sirius had been spending more and more time with the artist. The two of them had discussed Remus’ work, placement of paintings, layout of the gallery, refreshments; everything necessary to make an art show run smoothly. Remus found that he could sit and listen to Sirius drone on about anything, simply relishing in the deep, posh drawl of the man’s voice. It could be the benefits of a Chardonnay over a Sauvignon Blanc or a recitation of a chemistry textbook, Remus knew he would be smitten either way.

Seeing Sirius in whatever ridiculous Halloween costume that he concocted would be absolute torture for the artist, and he hardly found it fair that he was forced to put up with it. The gallery owner was bound to show up half naked or in some form of skin-tight outfit, and Remus wasn’t entirely sure that he would survive the evening.

“Come on, Remus…It’ll be fun!” Lily’s voice interrupted Remus’ train if thought, wrenching him from the images of Sirius in various costumes drifting through his mind. “And it won’t just be James’ friends there. I’ll have plenty of friends from art school. I think it could be a really good opportunity for you! Plus, I bet you guys would all get along!”

Remus shrugged, barely paying attention to Lily’s words. He was far too stressed about the upcoming week to think properly. His mind was racing and his leg was jiggling as he lifted his head up and looked at his friend.

“Honestly, this is all so overwhelming…”

“I know.” Lily offered Remus a kind smile, genuine and soft, with rosy lips parted delicately. “I’ve been there, Remus. That’s why I think tomorrow will be good for you. I really think a relaxing evening with friends could help you wind down…”

“I guess…” Remus lifted his cup to his lips and took a long sip, trying to focus on the mingling flavours and spiced aroma. He knew he needed to relax, he just wasn’t certain that a Halloween party was what the doctor ordered. “I guess…” He repeated wearily, fiddling with the paper cup in his hands.

Remus felt the tips of Lily’s fingers press gently into his arm and he looked up. Emerald eyes sparkled in the late afternoon light, filled with concern and— pity? Remus forced a smile on his face and rolled his eyes, attempting to be playful.

“Don’t worry about me,” he said with a shrug, trying to dismiss his friend’s concerns and put her at ease. “This’ll pass. I’m always a bundle of nerves before huge life-changing events.”

“You’re gonna be great, Remus. You’ll see. Everything will work out in the end.”

Remus took another gulp of tea and closed his eyes. He hoped beyond hope that Lily was correct; that things would all pull together in the end. If experience had taught Remus anything, however, it was that his life was anything but predictable.

“Anyway…” Remus said, putting his empty cup back down on the table. “Enough about this. We should head out soon. Don’t want to be late to…” Remus opened up his phone to check where they were going. “Who is it we’re seeing again?”

“_Longbottom_,” Lily said with a grin. “Alice. It’ll be a good show. She has some really interesting work. I think you’ll like it.”

“Good. I could use the distraction,” Remus admitted before sliding out from his seat. “Ready?” He offered Lily his arm, which she graciously took.

“Ready!”


	22. Chapter 22

Remus dug through his tiny closet, searching for something— _anything_ — that he could get away with wearing to the Halloween party.

There would be other artists there, so he couldn’t just show up without a costume. Lily had insisted that whatever he wore would be fine, but she also emphasized the fact that many of her friends would be dressing up.

There would also be professionals at the party, other gallerists and wealthy individuals— people that James knew and was friends with. Remus knew he couldn’t get away with some crazy outfit; he needed to look at least somewhat presentable, in case he had the opportunity to discuss his art career.

After significantly longer than he would care to admit, Remus finally settled on a fitting outfit; it was just _costume_ enough to appease both crowds. He grabbed his coat and scarf and headed out of his flat, mentally preparing himself for the arduous task of pretending to be friendly.

When Remus arrived, there were pumpkin decorations scattered about the front yard and little strings of lights adorning the door. There was a warm glow pouring out the window, with shadows passing by every once in a while. As Remus approached the house, he could hear the low murmur of people talking and pop music playing in the background.

_Ding dong._

Remus patiently waited, clutching a cheap bottle of wine nervously in his hands.

The door swung open and he was greeted by Lily, wearing an absurd amount of makeup. She had little brown freckles drawn on over her already freckled face, with a large black painted nose and white highlights on her cheeks and forehead. Her auburn hair was let down over her shoulders, and she had a headband with animal ears protruding from it. She wore a chocolate brown dress with a white belt and little black mittens. Remus couldn’t help but smile at his friend as he took in her home-made costume.

“What’re you supposed to be?” Lily teased as she gave Remus a once-over.

“I’m a werewolf,” he answered matter-of-factly. He turned his body around to show the little grey tuft of fur that protruded from his trousers. “See? I’ve got a tail and everything.”

Lily let out a joyful laugh and rolled her eyes.

“That is so low-effort, Remus! You’re just wearing your suit!”

“I have ears,” he said with a mock pout, pointing to two balls of fur that he had managed to fasten to his head somehow. “Anyway, not like your costume is more complicated. What are _you_ supposed to be, anyway?”

Lily put a hand on her hip and raised an eyebrow at Remus.

“I’m a doe. _Duh_. I’ve got a tail too, you know.” She turned around and wiggled her bum slightly, and Remus had to remind himself that Lily was James’ wife and that he needed to not be staring at her _tail_. As Lily turned back to face Remus, her smile grew wider. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re here.”

Remus lifted his bottle of wine and gave a nervous smile.

“Thanks for having me. This is for you guys… I’m sorry it’s not much…”

“Oh, Remus! You didn’t have to bring anything!” Lily took the wine from Remus’ hands before wrapping him in a hug. “Thank you! That’s so sweet. You… You really didn’t have to.”

“I know,” Remus said, returning her hug. “But I wanted to.”

“Thanks…”

Lily pulled away and beaconed Remus inside. He closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath in order to mentally prepare himself. When he opened them, he gave Lily a grimace and followed her into the house.

The combination of guests attending the party was eclectic, to say the least.

From what Remus could tell, there were people from all walks of life filling James and Lily’s home. The house was large— larger than any house Remus had been inside— and every room Remus could see had people in it. There were men in suits laughing over beers, there were people in eccentric costumes filling cups with punch, there were people on sofas, people in chairs, people standing, people walking around.

In fact, some of the people drifting through the house were holding trays filled with tiny appetizers. At first, Remus had assumed they were in costume, but he quickly realized that they were _actual_ servers doing their _actual_ jobs. Remus had to bite his tongue to keep from making a snarky comment at Lily.

“Welcome to our place!” Lily beamed. “Make yourself comfortable, Remus. Let us know if you need anything.”

Remus responded with a stiff nod before Lily walked away to socialize with her other party guests. The artist glanced around and found himself a corner that seemed unoccupied.

“Remus!”

Remus looked up to find James walking towards him with open arms. He had face paint and clothing to match Lily’s, but his headband had antlers in addition to ears. Remus smiled at his expressive friend and allowed himself to be scooped into an aggressive hug.

“Hey, James.”

“I’m so glad you came! I was worried you weren’t going to make it, especially when Lily said you were hesitant on coming. I’m glad you’re here!”

“Thanks,” Remus mumbled, pulling himself out of James’ death grip. “Thanks for inviting me.”

“Of course!” James’ hand landed on Remus’ shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze. He looked Remus over and cocked at eyebrow. “Where’s your costume?”

Remus rolled his eyes and gave a half-turn, showing James the back of his trousers.

“I’ve got a tail,” he offered with a shrug.

“My god, the two of you! Learn to live a little!”

Remus furrowed his brow and was about to question what James meant when he was cut off by Lily’s voice calling for her husband.

“Ah, duty calls!” James gave Remus’ shoulder another affectionate squeeze before he sauntered off to join his wife. Remus was left alone with a bemused smile, pondering their peculiar interaction.

One of the waitstaff passed by Remus and offered him a strange concoction in a glass; seemingly some kind of Halloween beverage. With a shrug and a _you only live once_ attitude, Remus accepted it. It was sweet and strong, a dangerous combination for an alcoholic drink.

“Evening, Mr. Lupin.”

Remus turned around to find Sirius Black standing behind him, perfectly straight posture, chin lifted ever so slightly, arms tucked behind his back. The gallery owner had a wry grin on his face and his silvery blue eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Back to last names, I see,” Remus teased, taking a deep swig of his drink and hoping for the alcohol to help relax him.

“Where’s your costume?” Sirius asked, positioning himself beside Remus and staring out at the crowd of people that was steadily growing in size.

“Where’s yours?” Remus retorted, mirroring Sirius’ position, standing shoulder to shoulder with the other man.

Sirius was wearing an all black suit, complete with a black shirt and a black tie. He had his hair down, falling loosely across his shoulders, swept away from his face with a hairband, which had a pair of furry black ears. Like Remus, Sirius had a tail attached to his trousers, which the artist pointedly tried not to notice.

“I’m a dog,” Sirius said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“So I’ve heard,” Remus retorted with a smirk. “But what’s your costume?”

Sirius let out a bright, cheery laugh, garnering the attention of other party goers. It swooped through Remus and made his stomach drop, and the artist couldn’t help but blush. Sirius’ laugh was infectious, and Remus chuckled along.

“_Sirius_!”

Both men glanced across the room, where Dorcas was waving with a broad grin spread across their face. Sirius cocked an eyebrow and gave a nonchalant shrug, offering Remus an almost-apologetic smile.

“Duty calls,” the gallery owner said, before nodding towards his friend.

“Go schmooze. I’ll be fine here with my…” Remus raised his empty glass pointedly. “Whatever this is.”

With a flash of a grin that seemed like it was reserved just for Remus, Sirius nodded his head and turned around. He swept across the room, offering people polite smiles and happy greetings. Remus thought back to the first night that he met Sirius, the way he commanded a room, the magnitude of his presence. This was the same Sirius— the gallery owner who knew how to chat people up and win over their hearts.

As impressed as Remus was, the soft-spoken Sirius from their intimate talk in the gallery was the artist’s favourite version of the man.

——-

As the evening went on, Remus found that Lily was right— though he’d be damned if he ever told her that himself. Lily’s friends from school did have a lot in common with Remus, and he enjoyed mocking the contemporary art scene alongside them.

They were quirky individuals, exactly the type of people that Remus had imagined he’d meet at art school, all wearing elaborate costumes with hand-made elements. They had a lot to talk about, constantly bickering over each other and chiming in with their thoughts. It was surprisingly fun, and Remus felt a pang of jealousy as he reminded himself that this wasn’t real, that these weren’t his actual friends. They were just being polite because they knew he was friends with Lily.

Remus brought his drink to his mouth and took a deep swig, vaguely wondering in the back of his mind if this was his fourth or fifth glass of mystery-halloween-drink. By the time glass four-or-five was finished, Remus was starting to feel noticeably dizzy; he bid the other artists goodbye and set out to find a glass of water.

He ended up nearly bumping into one.

“Remus!”

The artist glanced up and found himself staring into two pools of molten silver, shimmering in the sparkling Halloween decorations. He smiled at them, adamantly refusing to look away. Silvery blue was officially his new favourite colour.

“Remus, are you okay?”

Remus reached out a hand and pressed it into a black lapel. The fabric was _so soft_, he couldn’t help but run his fingers across it.

“Yeah, ’m fine,” Remus said with a relaxed grin. It was true. He _was_ fine. For the first time in weeks, he was fine. He wasn’t thinking about his art, he wasn’t worried about his emotions, he was simply relishing the feeling of being buzzed, the slight numbness in his fingertips, the way the room seemed to shift and spin as he moved. “Are _you_ okay?”

“Yeah, I'm… I’m fine?”

Remus felt two surprisingly strong hands brace against his arms, and he leaned into the touch, his fingers still grazing soft material.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Remus nodded aggressively, immediately regretting that decision. The room was feeling quite dizzy.

“Let’s get you some water…”

Remus felt himself being guided across the room, he felt pressure on the small of his back, an open palm, fingers spread out. He liked that feeling.

Before he realized what was happening, Remus was in a kitchen, waitstaff dutifully ignoring him and the tall, handsome man beside him. He heard a sink running and felt a cool glass being forced into his hands.

“_Drink_,” a voice commanded gently. Remus lifted the glass to his lips and dutifully did what he was told. He had enough wits about him to know that he needed water.

When Remus finished the contents of the glass, he felt it lifted from his hands and heard the soft _klink_ of it being placed on the counter. He smiled, internally grateful for being helped. For some reason, the room refused to sit still, and he wasn’t sure if he would have succeeded at pouring water by himself.

Remus glanced up into the silvery eyes and smiled. They were _really pretty_.

“What are?”

Remus furrowed his brow, confused at the question.

“Wha—?”

“What are really pretty?”

Remus blinked, staring at Sirius, vaguely wondering what his lips would taste like.

“Iunno…” Remus slurred, hardly paying attention to what he was saying. Why was Sirius so close to him? Why was he getting closer?

“Remus?”

Remus felt a hand grip his arm, giving a squeeze. The fabric under Remus’ fingers was so soft, and there was suddenly a bunch of it in his grip. Sirius’ face was closer than it had been a moment ago, but Remus couldn’t tell which one of them was moving.

“You’re so drunk right now…” Sirius had a smirk spread across his face and Remus _hated_ it. It was the same smirk he had every time Remus did something awkward or embarrassing. It was the same smirk that Remus desperately wanted to get rid of.

“You wipe that smirk off your face, or I’m gonna wipe it off for you,” Remus muttered threateningly with a cheeky grin of his own. Sirius cocked an eyebrow at him, as if to say _I’d like to see you try_.

Before he knew what was happening, Remus’s lips pressed themselves against Sirius’. They were rough and chapped and it was barely a graze, but Remus’ stomach was exploding and his fingers were tingling and the room was spinning and he thought his heart might actually burst.

When Remus pulled away, he noticed the stunned expression on Sirius’ face, his lips slightly parted. For the first time since meeting the gallery owner, the man didn’t have a witty comeback. Instead, he moved forward, capturing Remus’ mouth with his own, moving his lips in time with the artist’s.

Remus closed his eyes. He felt a hand snake its way around him, grasping at his side. He felt his hands raise up of their own accord, weaving through soft, velvety locks, loose strands of hair tangled in his fingers. He felt Sirius’ hand in his curls, a thumb tracing along his cheek.

Then everything ended.

Sirius pulled away, the magic disappearing with him, and Remus desperately wanted it to return.

“I— I shouldn’t have done that,” Sirius murmured, taking a step back, putting distance between Remus’ body and his own. “You’re not thinking straight… I shouldn’t… I’m sorry, Remus.”

_Come back!_

Remus didn’t want the kiss to end. He didn’t want any of this to end. He wanted Sirius’ mouth and his lips and his tongue and his hands and suddenly everything was gone. He didn’t know what was happening, all he knew was that he was standing alone in the kitchen, wondering where Sirius was, wondering why he was there, wondering what to do.

Remus turned around and noticed a tray of mystery drinks. He needed one. He took it. It tasted so sweet, he could drink it all night. It was so good, and it made everything feel a little better…


	23. Chapter 23

When Remus came to, he had a splitting headache and only the vaguest of flashes of the previous evening. He remembered a party, people talking about art, little snippets of conversations here and there. 

With a groan, Remus rolled over in bed, still not yet ready to open his eyes to the inevitable blinding light. As Remus pulled his blanket up to his shoulders, he couldn’t help but notice it felt a bit heavier than usual. Apparently hangovers made things heavy… 

But did they make pillows fluffier?

Remus reached up and patted the pillow that his head was resting on. He didn’t remember his pillow being that soft. He didn’t remember the comforter being that _downy_. He didn’t remember his mattress being that _comfortable_.

Remus’ eyes immediately shot open and he took in his surroundings. 

_This was not his flat._

The room he was in was _white_, almost blindingly so. The walls were pristine, with a few paintings hung up to contrast the starkness. The comforter was white, the bedsheets were white, the curtains barely holding back the sun were white. It was bright and airy and _different_. 

The artist sat up, instantly panicking. Where was he and how did he get there? He looked down beneath the poofy duvet and couldn’t help but notice that he was only wearing his boxers, which was absolutely unheard of. The only time Remus slept in just his boxers was immediately after—

“_Fuck_,” the artist swore under is breath, trying desperately to ground himself and figure out what kind of a mistake he made. He frantically searched around the room and noticed his previous night’s clothing folded neatly at the foot of the bed. “_Shit_!”

The other half of the bed was empty at least, but it did look tousled, and the pillow next to him had a distinctly head-shaped dent. Whose head it was, Remus couldn’t say. He silently prayed that it wasn’t anybody he knew; in particular, a certain _gallery owner_ that he knew. 

As quietly as he could manage, Remus slipped out of the stranger’s bed and pulled his clothing back on. He tiptoed towards the bedroom door, opening it a crack to peer out. What he saw made his stomach drop.

The hallway was as stark and bare as the bedroom, with bits of ornamentation scattered about here and there. Based on the single painting on the wall, the occasional photograph on mostly-empty shelves, and the framed copies of magazine covers, this was very clearly Sirius’ penthouse. 

_Shit!_

Remus swallowed his pride and slipped out of the bedroom, hoping that his escape could go unnoticed. The hallway was an empty path leading into the main foyer, and Remus hurriedly made his way towards the entrance, not bothering to take in his surroundings. He found his shoes, coat and scarf in the front hall cupboard and quickly slipped them on, trying not to make a sound. 

With a sigh of relief, Remus managed to leave the flat without alerting anyone to his presence. He practically ran down the hallway to the lift and paid no attention to the doorman who tried to wish him _good morning_ on his way out of the building.

Remus was on the street in the middle of downtown wearing yesterday’s Halloween costume, but at least he had gotten out unnoticed. Now all he had to do was deal with the aftermath. The artist headed straight to the subway and was back in his own tiny basement flat before he had a chance to actually think things through.

He had gotten drunk at the party, that much he remembered. 

Remus had no recollection of going to Sirius’ home: he barely remembered _talking _to Sirius, let alone _sleeping _with him.

He needed to _fix _things. He needed to figure things out. He needed to—

_Ring ring._

Remus snatched his phone from the bedside table and felt his stomach churn when he looked at the caller I.D.

_Sirius_.

He couldn’t answer it. 

_Ring ring._

How could he? What would he say? 

Would Sirius yell at him for slipping out without a goodbye? Would Sirius expect a relationship? Or worse, would Sirius cancel his contract with _Black and White_? 

_Ring ring._

Knowing Sirius, the latter seemed the most likely response. This was it: Remus had ruined his chances at making it in the art world. He had everything he had ever wanted, presented to him on a platter, and one stupid night that he couldn’t even remember had ruined everything.

_Ring ring._

Remus felt like an idiot. He was a failure. He had let himself relax too much and ended up screwing himself over… and for _what_?

Remus looked over to his phone, which had finally stopped ringing.

He needed a coffee. 

——

Remus was so focused on his painting that he barely noticed the time. It wasn’t until his stomach rumbled that he even remembered that he hadn’t eaten yet that day. 

The artist headed towards his phone, which was unceremoniously tossed onto his mattress, and picked it up. He felt a twist in his stomach— which had almost become the norm for that day— as he noticed that his phone had been on silent and people were trying to reach him. 

_Five missed calls._

Three were from Sirius, one from James and one from Lily. 

There were also several missed texts.

**Sirius:**

_Hey Remus. Tried calling, got your voicemail. Everything ok? You left without saying anything._

_We should talk._

**James:**

_Sirius says he’s trying to reach you? You ok?_

**Lily:**

_Thanks for joining us last night! Hope you had fun!_

_Hey, everything okay? Sirius says you’re not answering his calls._

_Remus, what happened last night? Are you alright?!_

_Remus! Talk to me! Starting to get worried! _

Remus glanced at the time and knew that he had screwed himself over with his juvenile behaviour. It was almost four in the afternoon, and his shift started in just over half an hour— almost precisely the amount of time it took for Remus to get there. Grabbing whatever clothing he could find, Remus hurriedly got dressed and headed out the door.

He didn’t realize he had forgotten his phone at home until it was too late. 


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Author’s Note: Excusez mon français! J'ai demandé à mon mari de m'aider, mais il était trop paresseux pour vérifier mes verbes! De plus, il est franco-canadien, donc ce dont nous parlons pourrait être un peu différent de la France française!
> 
> To those of you who don’t speak French, it’s fine, James knows exactly how you feel!))

“_Remus_?”

Remus felt the colour drain from his face as he looked up from his spot behind the till to find Sirius Black entering the coffee shop. 

Sirius’ expression was a mingling of worry and anger, his handsome features distorted with emotion.

“What the _fuck_?”

Remus swallowed and glanced around him at the nearly empty cafe. He knew that this wasn’t a good place for a confrontation, but at least it wouldn’t be a _huge _scene. 

“Sirius, I—” Remus began softly, trailing off. He didn’t know where he was headed with that sentence. Sirius’ brow furrowed as he approached the counter and stared at Remus incredulously.

“You left without saying anything, you ignore my calls all day… Hell, I even went to your _flat_, Remus! I was _worried _about you!” Sirius’ voice was getting louder by the moment, each word peppered with slightly more anger than the last. By the time he reached Remus’ till, his cheeks were flushed and his eyes were clouded with fury. “What the _fuck_?”

“Sirius,” Remus mumbled, his gaze drifting down, away from the gallery owner. “I— can we not do this here?”

“Can we not—” Sirius repeated in disbelief. “What the _hell _is wrong with you?”

Remus looked up, an intense pang of guilt sweeping through his stomach, making his throat tight. Sirius was upset, and for good reason. Remus had caused this.

“I—” he began meekly. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“You don't—” Sirius took a step back and straightened his posture. His expression suddenly changed, from confusion to anger and finally settling on cold indifference. Sirius’ eyes flashed with icy menace as his jaw hardened and his chin tilted up. Sirius squared his shoulders and set his mouth, glaring viciously at the artist. 

“Well then,” he muttered darkly, his eyes narrowing. “It’s a good thing I had you sign a contract.” Sirius’ fists clenched into balls and Remus watched as he transformed completely into the jerk that the artist first dealt with at _Black and White_. “You’re legally obligated to respond to me within a reasonable amount of time, _Mr. Lupin_. If you refuse to follow the terms of our agreement, I’ll have no choice but to terminate your contract with the gallery. Let this be your_ final warning_.”

Before Remus had a chance to respond, Sirius turned on his heel and marched towards the door. He exited the cafe, leaving Remus alone at the till, desperately wishing he had handled things better. 

_Shit._

———-

“_Merde_!” Sirius swore loudly, nearly driving his fist through the table. The dishes clattered from the force, and Lily shot her friend an angry look from the kitchen before her face softened.

“It’s okay, Sirius. Things will work out, you’ll s—”

“No! They won’t, Lily!” Sirius yelled, thumping both palms against the table, only slightly less forcefully than before. “Tu sait ce qu'il a fait?!”

“_Sirius_,” James groaned in frustration. 

“Yes, Sirius, I know. I’m sure this is all just a big misunderstanding…”

“Non! Je comprend. C'est facille! Remus pense qu'il peut entré dans ma vie et détruire tous, et il n'y a rien que je peux faire!" 

”_Sirius_!“ James complained again, his voice raising. "You know I don’t speak French!”

“Tais toi!” Sirius snapped at his friend, before turning back to Lily. “Je ne sais pas quoi faire maintenant…”

“How would you feel if I just spoke Hindi all the time?" 

"James, sweetie,” Lily said, turning to her husband with a slightly condescending tone. “If you spoke Hindi to us, you’d just be speaking to yourself…”

“This isn’t _fair_!” James whined before Sirius cut him off with a glare.

“Oi, we’re dealing with my problems right now, Potter! Shut your trap!”

“_Boys_,” Lily chided, approaching the table and setting down the tray of tea that she had been preparing. “Behave yourselves. James…” Lily turned to her husband. “Sirius will try to speak in English. _Sirius_,” Lily continued, turning to her friend. “Don’t do that thing you do when you’re angry.”

“What thing?” Sirius asked, affronted.

“You know _exactly _what thing. The one where you’re mean to James because you’re a petulant child who has a poor handle on his emotions? _That _thing.”

“I’m not— !”

“_Now_,” Lily announced, matter-of-factly, cutting Sirius off and seating herself across from her boys. “_Talk _to us, Sirius. What _exactly _happened?”


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY!  
I accidentally posted Chapter 26 instead of Chapter 25! This is the real chapter 25. My apologies!!!

_ Knock knock knock. _

Remus felt his entire body tense as someone’s fist thumped against his door. He held his breath, waiting for something terrible to happen. 

“Remus?” It was Lily’s voice, soft and almost timid. She sounded worried and Remus suddenly felt guilty for causing it. “Remus, are you in there? Can… Can we talk?  _ Please? _ ”

Remus briefly considered pretending he wasn’t home so that he wouldn’t have to deal with everything, but he knew that wouldn’t be fair to Lily. She was his friend, after all, and he didn’t want to risk losing her too. 

Remus headed to the door and paused as he reached it. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying desperately to calm his nerves and steady his frantically racing heart. He opened the door and stared at Lily, attempting to keep the terror and distress out of his eyes. The look on Lily’s face told him that he wasn’t successful.

"Remus,” she began, almost pleadingly. “What is going  _ on _ with you? This isn't  _ like _ you!"

Remus looked sheepishly at his feet, feeling the full weight of the situation. He had messed up, he disappointed his friends, he lost  _ everything _ . Without saying a word, Remus moved aside, leaving room for Lily to enter. 

Lily had never visited Remus’ flat before, and it was in a particularly bad state of disarray thanks to the artist’s mind being elsewhere. There were paint tubes scattered about, brushes sticking out of every available cup, and dirty clothes strewn across the floor. Remus’ bed was covered with books and papers, a small section carved out for him to sit on. Remus’ sink was filled with dishes that hadn’t been washed, his rubbish bin was overflowing with rags and his cupboards were clearly empty. 

Lily didn’t wait for Remus to talk; she immediately began picking garbage up off of his floor and gathering it together.

“Lily—” Remus began, before she interrupted him.

“Let me do something, Remus. Please. I feel useless, I just… I want to help.”

“You’re not useless,” Remus muttered, garnering a skeptical glance from his friend. “You’re not!”

“Remus, where do you keep your rubbish bags?”

The artist felt his stomach clench, the turmoil that was sitting deep inside rising up and threatening to boil over.

“Lily,  _ please _ . You don’t have to do this. Just… just leave it.”

Lily stopped tidying for a moment, turning to her friend. Her expression was unreadable; Remus wasn’t sure if it was concern or frustration, pity or affection. She inhaled deeply before letting out a sigh. 

“Remus, just… put the kettle on. I’ll gather some of this up and then… then we can talk, okay?” Remus was about to protest, to say that he was fine and he didn’t need to talk, but something about the way Lily was looking at him told him that he didn’t have an option. “ _ Okay _ , Remus?”

“Fine,” Remus mumbled, already heading over to his make-shift kitchen. 

Once Lily was satisfied with her cleaning and had gathered most of the visible garbage into a bag, she headed over to Remus’ excuse for a table and sat down. Her fingers were crossed and her expression stoic as she waited for Remus to place a cup of tea before her. Remus sat in the chair across from Lily and stared into his mug, hoping it would somehow help him out of this uncomfortable situation. 

“Remus…” Lily began, after a few minutes of silence. “Can we please talk about yesterday?”

_ What’s there to talk about? _

That’s what Remus would have said a few months ago. There was nothing he wanted to talk about, and he would have been fine brooding and keeping it all inside for it to fester and rot. Unfortunately, since meeting Lily, James and Sirius, Remus had found himself much more open to conversation and allowing people to get close to him. 

He hated it.

“Okay…” He managed to say, refusing to look at anything except for the little floating bubbles in his mug.

Lily waited a beat before urging him on.

“ _ Well _ …?”

“Well what?”

With a sigh, Lily raised a hand to her head and rubbed her temples with her fingers. 

“Well, what happened?”

Remus shrugged his shoulders and chewed his lip nervously.

“Didn’t Sirius tell you?”

“Yes. But I want to hear your side.”

Remus closed his eyes. He wondered how much to tell her. He wondered what  _ Sirius  _ said. Did Sirius explain to Lily that Remus was a terrible one-night-stand? Did he talk about how Remus slipped out of his apartment and then refused to answer all communication? Did he explain that he didn’t want Remus to show in the gallery anymore and that Remus had single-handedly ruined any chances of ever having an art career?

“ _ Remus _ ?”

Remus opened his eyes, keeping them trained on his tea. 

“I… got drunk at Halloween…” 

When Remus didn’t elaborate, Lily spoke up. 

“Yes, I know. I was there.  _ Then  _ what?”

“I… don’t remember.” Remus felt horrible. How could he have allowed himself to get that drunk? “I… woke up at Sirius’ place. In— In his bed…” Remus stopped. He didn’t need to elaborate, he was sure that Lily had already heard it.

“Oh… Remus…” Lily reached an arm across the piles of paper on the table and gently squeezed Remus’ hand. “Remus, you… you must have thought… Oh dear…”

Remus looked up, catching a glimpse of Lily’s expression. This one was  _ definitely _ pity. 

“I don’t need your pity, Lily,” Remus grumbled bitterly.

“No, I don’t… it’s just…” Lily pulled her hand away and tried to force a smile. “Remus, nothing  _ happened _ at Sirius’ place.”

Remus raised a brow and pursed his lips.

“Lily, I was wearing nothing but my boxers.”

“Yes, well… you were drunk. You… made a bit of a mess of yourself. Sirius had your clothing cleaned for you.” 

“He… what?” Remus didn’t understand what Lily was saying. Why would Sirius have his clothing cleaned? How did Sirius have his clothing cleaned? What was Lily talking about?

Lily opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again, as if she was searching her mind for the right thing to say. After a pause, she began to again.

“When the party was over, you were too drunk to go home on your own. James and I were fine with you staying, but Sirius had insisted…” Lily trailed off, recalling the events of that evening. “He brought you back to his place, saying he wanted someone to keep an eye on you. You… well, your alcohol didn’t stay down. Sirius helped you out of your messy clothes and put you to bed in his spare room. He had his assistant get your clothing dry cleaned early the next morning.”

Lily lifted her tea to her lips, taking a careful sip as she waited for Remus to digest the new information. She gave him a calculated look, as if she was trying to read him.

Remus was lost.

Sirius had brought him back to his place and undressed him, but they didn’t end up doing anything. Remus had snuck out of Sirius’ apartment thinking he was escaping a humiliating morning, when really, he left without saying  _ thank you. _ While Remus had been avoiding Sirius all day, Sirius was just trying to make sure that the artist was okay.

Was Remus the jerk in this situation?

“I thought…” Remus was having trouble putting his thoughts into words. He had assumed the worst. Of course he had. Of course he thought that he and Sirius had slept together— because that was something he knew drunk Remus would want to do. It was something  _ sober _ Remus wanted to do. “I thought I had ruined everything…”

Lily didn’t respond right away. She took another sip of her tea, still eyeing Remus.

“And you’re sure we didn’t… have sex? I mean… that's what it looked like...”

“Positive,” Lily said with absolute certainty, as if she had been there to verify. “Sirius would never do that.  _ Never. _ ” Her eyes softened as she watched the panic spread across Remus’ features. “I know you must have been scared, Remus… waking up in someone else’s home and… and thinking that… I just… You need to talk to Sirius. This is important.”

“Yeah…” Remus muttered, only now realizing that his current predicament was entirely due to his lack of ability to communicate. “I do…”

“Remus…” Lily tried to smile, but the artist was able to see past it. “Make sure you talk to him. He’s… Well, he thinks you left because of  _ him _ . He’s… he’s not so happy.” Lily glanced down at her cup, breaking their eye contact. “He’s still the gallery owner, Remus. I think this is something that needs to be dealt with immediately.”

“Right… yeah…” Remus was royally screwed. This really would be his last chance to show at a gallery. "Did I fuck everything up?"

Lily gave Remus' arm a gentle squeeze, trying to keep her tone positive.

"Not if you talk to him and explain everything. I think you can fix this, you just… it needs to be done  _ soon _ . Today, if you can manage it." Lily inhaled deeply, her gaze penetrating Remus' defenses. "I know this is hard for you, Remus, but Sirius was only trying to help. He's definitely been known to hold grudges and I just… I don't want to see this become one of them."

"Yeah…" Remus' eyes dropped to his tea again. "I'll call him today."

"Good." Lily stood up from her seat and crossed over to Remus, giving him a hug over the back of his chair. "I'm sure this will all work out in the end."

"Yeah…" Remus didn't believe it would, but now was not the time to share that with Lily.

"I have to go… you'll call me tonight to tell me how it went?"

"Of course." Remus looked up at his friend and tried to smile. "Thanks for coming over. I appreciate it. I… I needed this."

"I know… and you're welcome." Lily headed to the door and glanced back at Remus, who was still seated at the table. "Remember to call me, Remus."

"Bye, Lily."

With that, Remus was once again alone in his apartment, wallowing in misery and self-pity. 


	26. Chapter 26

_Ring ring._

Remus felt his heart beating obscenely fast in his chest, ringing in his ears, and a painful lump formed in his throat. He hated this.

_Ring ring._

He wasn’t used to being the one to reach out to Sirius, it was always the other way around. Remus closed his eyes as he thought about how warm his flat suddenly felt and how sweaty his palms were 

_Ring ring._

“Hello?”

It was Sirius who answered, but his voice was icy and hostile.

“Uh… Hi. Sirius. It's… it’s Remus.”

A pause.

“_Mr. Lupin_, are you calling me in regards to your upcoming show at the gallery this week?” The way Sirius said Remus’ name made him sick to his stomach. 

“Uh, no, actually, I just wanted to—”

“Mr. Lupin, please use this number for business purposes only. I am a professional, and I expect you to behave as such.”

“Oh. Um… okay…”

“Excellent. I expect you to be at the gallery by noon on Thursday to set up your work in preparation for the show. Remember, you are required to bring five pieces to display.”

“Oh… O— okay…”

“Goodbye, Mr. Lupin.”

Sirius hung up before Remus had a chance to respond, and the artist was left staring at his phone in awe and disbelief. He had no idea what just happened.

——-

“So how’d your talk with Sirius go?”

“It didn't…” Remus flopped onto his bed, his phone set to speaker and resting on the bedside table. He stared up at his ceiling, wishing he hadn’t gone to the stupid Halloween party at all.

“I thought you were going to call him?” Lily chastised. Remus could picture her expression perfectly. 

“I did. He… didn’t really give me a chance to talk. It was all business. I didn’t even realize what had happened until he hung up!”

“Oh. _Shit_.”

Remus had never heard Lily swear before. This wasn’t a good sign.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“He’s just… when he’s mad, he yells. He bangs his fist and hits things and acts like a child…”

“Sounds classy.”

“Yeah, well, he didn’t have great examples of healthy coping mechanisms growing up…”

Remus internally groaned, forgetting that Sirius didn’t come from a great family. He shouldn’t have made a snappy remark.

“Right… sorry…”

“He just… when he’s really upset, he’ll act out. When he acts _professional_, that’s when you know there’s a problem…” Lily paused for a moment. “He did the same thing to our friend Peter last year. They had a big falling out and instead of dealing with it, Sirius just cut him completely from his life. They haven’t spoken since.”

_Shit indeed._

This was not what Remus wanted to hear.

“So… what do I do, Lily?”

“Well, you show up on Thursday. You set up your work and be polite. You come to the opening on Friday and we just try our best to make things work. I'll… try to get James to talk to Sirius. Maybe he can talk some sense into him.”

A thought suddenly crossed Remus’ mind, and he blurted it out before he even had a chance to reconsider.

“Why are you helping me so much with this?”

Lily was silent for a moment.

“What are you talking about? You’re my friend, Remus.”

“So is Sirius. In fact, you’ve known him way longer. Why are you on my side and working so hard to get us to reconcile?”

The moment of silence felt like it lasted forever.

“When you and Sirius were getting along… I hadn’t seen Sirius that happy in a long time. You… brought out something in him. I don’t want to see that disappear.”

Remus’ stomach did a somersault. He made Sirius happy? 

“Anyway… this is a stupid, childish problem brought on by poor communication. Maybe there’s a chance that two of my friends can learn to talk like proper adults. Who am I to deny them this learning opportunity?”

Remus smiled. That was the Lily he knew and loved. The one cared for her friends deeply and insulted them politely. 

“Here’s hoping they can actually learn…” Remus teased.

“Yeah…”

Lily’s voice sounded forlorn and Remus was worried that his problem with Sirius was affecting her more than she let on. 

“Don’t worry, Lily. I’ll be there on Thursday, I’ll do my best… I think we can fix this…” Remus lied, trying to comfort his friend.

“Yeah…” It didn’t sound like Lily believed it either.


	27. Chapter 27

Remus walked into  _ Black and White _ on Thursday, clutching his portfolio bag, feeling absolutely petrified. 

There was so much that could go wrong.

Sirius hadn't spoken to Remus since the previous weekend, and Remus had no idea where they stood. Remus' most recent painting was so different from his other works, he wasn't sure if the gallerist would even accept it. Remus also knew that tension would be high the next day during the actual opening, when both men had to pretend to be happy and on good terms in order to sell art; a mutually beneficial agreement. 

As Remus walked through the large wooden doors, he noticed Lily mounting one of her paintings. He smiled at his friend and nodded his head. She returned a grin.

"Hey,  _ Remus _ ," Lily said, slightly exaggerated, as if she was announcing his presence to the room. "Glad you could make it to set up!"

"Yeah… Do you know where Si— Mr. Black is? I'm… uh… not sure where he wants my pieces."

Lily rolled her eyes and nodded her head towards the gallery office before saying anything. 

" _ Mr. Black _ wanted me to inform you that there are sections marked off on the wall for you to put your pieces up." Lily made a point of sighing dramatically, as if this whole situation was ridiculous— which it was. "I don't know why he  _ couldn't tell you that himself _ ," she said, much louder than necessary. She glared at the office but rolled her eyes again after she received no response. 

"It's fine," Remus said softly, trying to keep the mood lighthearted. "I'm sure I can find my way around. Any idea which piece he wants where?"

"He numbered the spots chronologically. So number one is your earliest piece, and so on. Lemme know if you need help, okay?"

Remus nodded at his friend before making his way through the gallery, looking for the taped-off spaces on the wall with his name on them. 

_ Lupin. #1 _

"Guess this is me," he muttered under his breath as he put down his portfolio bag and took out his measuring tape and level. He looked over his shoulder at Lily to see what she was doing. "Do you… uh… know what height to hang it?" 

Lily stifled a giggle, offering her friend a supportive grin.

"Do you have a calculator on you? 'Cause it's a whole equation." 

Remus quirked an eyebrow at his friend, eliciting another laugh. 

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, hold tight. I'll help you out as soon as I finish this one."

Remus gave his friend a grateful smile before pulling out painting number one. Thank goodness Lily was still willing to talk to him, or else he'd be in real trouble. 

——

By the time Remus had finished putting up his pieces, Sirius still hadn't emerged from his office. James was already at the gallery to pick Lily up, and had patiently waited for the two artists to complete their tasks.

"You wanna join us for dinner, Remus?" James offered as Remus packed up his things. The artist glanced up at his friends and shrugged. 

"I was actually…" Remus began, before looking over his shoulder at the office where he knew Sirius was hiding. "I was thinking of sticking around for a bit… maybe get a chance to actually  _ talk _ to him, you know?"

"I think that's a good idea," Lily said, giving her friend a gentle smile and a squeeze on the arm. James nodded fervently, agreeing with his wife.

"Yeah. Good call, Remus." He clasped a firm hand on Remus' shoulder, a physical gesture of affection that Remus figured he'd never get used to. "Good luck, mate. You might need it."

"Yeah…" Remus groaned, giving his friends a pained half-smile. "Have fun at dinner, yeah?"

"Will do." Lily gave Remus a peck on the cheek. "See you tomorrow!"

With that, Remus was left standing alone in the middle of the empty gallery, surrounded by his and Lily's paintings, silently praying that things could work out. 

Remus closed his eyes, centered himself, and took a deep, steadying breath. He needed to make sure that he remained calm this time, instead of exploding and flying off the handle. Remus knew his temper could be his downfall and mentally established that this would not be one of those instances. Then, before he had given himself an opportunity to second guess his actions, Remus headed towards the office door. 

"Sirius?" He called out before knocking. "Uh… Mr. Black?"

There was no response at first, and Remus momentarily wondered if he was mistaken, and Sirius wasn't actually in the gallery. 

"Mr. Black? Are… are you here?"

"Is this gallery related,  _ Mr. Lupin _ ?"

Remus felt the words like an icicle being driven into his heart, cold and sharp, intended to hurt. He took another deep breath, trying to keep his calm.

"No. It's not. Can we talk?"

A pause.

"No."

" _ Please _ ?"

"No, Mr. Lupin. I'd rather not."

Remus gave an aggravated sigh before responding.

"Sirius, please. This is important. I want to sort this all out."

The door swung open so suddenly that Remus was startled and nearly fell backwards. He stumbled slightly before regaining his composure. 

Sirius was standing on the other side of the threshold and looked rather worse for wear. His hair was tied in its usual bun and his suit was clean and pressed, but there were deep purple bags under his eyes, as if the gallery owner hadn't had a good night's sleep in a while. Remus could have lied to himself and chalked it up to stress from the opening, but the artist knew in his heart that this was his fault.

"What do you want, Mr. Lupin?"

"I want to apologize."

Sirius lifted his eyebrow the slightest bit, the thin line of his mouth tightening. 

"Well then, go ahead."

"I'm sorry, Sirius. I really am." Remus wanted to look away, he wanted to stare at his shoes, to avert his eyes, to keep himself protected from Sirius' icy, penetrating gaze. Instead, the artist stared forward, accepting whatever Sirius wanted to say to him.

Sirius narrowed his eyes and Remus watched as his fists clenched. 

"Are you just saying that, or do you have any idea what you're sorry about?"

Remus nodded solemnly.

"I'm… I'm sorry for getting so drunk at the Halloween party. And that you had to take care of me… And I'm sorry for leaving without saying anything. And for ignoring your calls and messages. I really was an idiot. It was juvenile and pathetic. I should have had a better handle on my emotions, both as a professional and as your friend."

Sirius crossed his arms and raised his chin, eyeing Remus skeptically. 

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you leave? Why did you ignore me when I tried reaching out?"

Remus knew this was the damning part— this was the one thing that made Remus look the worst. 

"I woke up somewhere unfamiliar… I…" Remus broke eye contact and glanced down. He was too ashamed to look Sirius in the eyes. "I assumed we had slept together and was embarrassed."

"How  _ dare _ you."

Remus looked up to see Sirius' face twisted in anger. His stomach dropped. This was not the response he had expected.

"Wha— "

"How  _ dare you _ ?" Sirius repeated, louder this time, more forceful. "You  _ knew _ . You  _ knew _ that I struggled with my drinking and you  _ knew _ that I had been sober for a year. We  _ talked about it _ ! Right here! Right in this very gallery!"

Remus felt like he was being accused of something but he couldn't quite figure out what.

“You  _ knew _ all of that, and you  _ still _ assumed that I was the type of person to take advantage of you while you were  _ drunk _ ?!” Sirius was shouting now, not even bothering to keep any sort of professionalism in his voice. He looked furious, his eyes flashing with rage, his face was flushed. 

Remus felt a chill run down his spine as the colour drained from his face. 

“ _ Shit _ , I didn’t even think—“

“Damn right, you didn’t think!” Sirius hollered, taking an aggressive step towards Remus. “You just thought that I was a run-of-the-mill douchebag who would sexually assault someone I li— Was friends with! Someone I  _ worked _ with!” Sirius jabbed an accusatory finger in Remus’ direction. “You clearly have  _ no _ respect for me if you think I’m that type of person! You don’t give a  _ shit _ what I’ve been through or my feelings. You’re just lost in your own little world with your own little problems, thinking everyone is out to get you!”

Remus was lost for words.

“I—“

“You  _ what _ , Remus?! You’re going to defend yourself?! Go ahead! Explain things! Explain to me why you assumed that I would take advantage of you!”

That was the problem: Remus didn’t have an explanation. To the artist, that wasn’t the situation at all. For Remus, he was someone who had wanted to be with Sirius and had assumed that he had followed through on his base desires while drunk. It had never occurred to him that Sirius would never have allowed that, even if Remus tried anything. Sirius wouldn’t have done that, because he was a decent person. 

“I’m sorry,” Remus muttered meekly, trying to come to terms with how Sirius was feeling. “I didn’t think—“

“Of  _ course  _ you didn’t think. Because why would you ever think about me? Why would how I’m feeling  _ ever _ affect you?! Why would someone like you  _ care _ how much it hurts to be… to be accused of that! Of such a— a horrible thing! Have I given you reason to think that I would do that? That I would go around manipulating drunk friends into having _ sex _ ?!”

Remus felt his face grow hot, his throat tightening, his eyes stinging. He knew that if he wasn't careful, he'd break down in tears. Sirius was right. Remus thought that Sirius had taken advantage of him— why would he have assumed the worst about someone who was his friend?

“Sirius—“

“Remus, I am not interested in discussing this any further.” Sirius said it with such finality, Remus felt it in the pit of his stomach. “Let’s keep things professional until tomorrow. And then… Then you can go find another gallery to show in. I don’t want you back here.”

“ _ Sirius… _ ”

“ _ What _ , Remus?!”

With Sirius’ penetrating gaze and the wave of guilt coursing through Remus’ veins, the artist was at a loss for words. He didn’t know what to say or do to make things better. All he could do was repeat himself.

“I’m sorry.”

“So you’ve said,” Sirius spat, looking Remus up and down, reading him, seeing through him. “But disingenuous apologies can only get you so far.”

Sirius turned on his heel and slammed the office door behind him, causing the threshold to rattle precariously. Remus was left staring at a blank door, wishing that he had made better choices, wishing that he wasn’t there, wishing that he hadn’t messed things up as much as he did.

At least now he knew why Sirius was so upset at him. 

It was entirely Remus’ fault. 


	28. Chapter 28

Remus arrived at _ Black and White _ early in the afternoon, wearing his one and only suit. He was clean-shaven, his hair was brushed, and he looked as presentable as he could manage, all things considered. 

As he entered the gallery, he noticed that there were already a few people there. James and Lily were walking around, organizing tables with food and pamphlets. There was a makeshift bar set up, where a server was sorting the alcohol and setting out glasses. Sirius was talking with a member of the waitstaff, giving directions and explaining what needed to be done throughout the night.

Still feeling the weight of anxiety pressing heavily on his shoulders, Remus headed over to the bar. 

"Hey…" He managed to get out, smiling at the woman behind the counter. She gave him a confused look. "Oh, uh… I'm one of the artists. I'm… I'm allowed to be here, I promise."

"Oh!" She said, beaming at Remus. "Well, your work is very beautiful!"

"Ah… thanks…" Remus felt himself smile, despite the whole _ Sirius _ situation; it was really nice to be complimented on his work and it happened so rarely in his life. The bartender returned his grin, a slight flush falling across her cheeks.

"You'd better get used to people saying that. This night is all about you and your art."

"Heh… yeah," Remus answered awkwardly. "I suppose it is."

"You look like you could use a glass of wine…"

"You know what…" Remus eyed the collection of fancy wines behind the bar; wines that he was allowed to try for free thanks to his art. He had worked hard to get to this point, and regardless of how his personal life was looking, he knew he should still take a moment to be proud of himself. He had come so far in just a few weeks. "I think I will have one. I deserve it."

The bartender poured Remus a glass, which he graciously accepted and brought with him as he walked through the gallery. He paused in front of his most recent work, taking in the depth of the painting, remembering his emotions as he had brought it to life. He was still experiencing the same turmoil, still struggling through the same complex feelings. 

"_ Do not _ get drunk tonight," a voice said from behind the artist.

Remus froze, feeling his stomach tighten and his shoulders tense. He turned around to face Sirius, hardening his expression. 

"It's a _ glass of wine _, Sirius. I think I'm entitled to it," he spat, glaring at the gallery owner. Sirius was purposefully causing trouble at this point.

"Yes, well, we don't want any mean old gallery owners _ taking advantage _ of you when you pass out." Sirius had a sneer on his face as he taunted Remus, and the artist clenched his fists in fury.

"What the _ fuck _ is wrong with you, Sirius?!" Remus' voice was louder than he intended and it rang through the gallery, echoing across the walls.

Sirius was about to retort, most likely some snide comment, when James approached them. 

"_ Office. _ Both of you. _ Now! _"

Remus had never seen James that angry before. His voice was sharp and aggressive, paired with a deep crimson glow spreading across his cheeks. The dark umber of his eyes flashed with intensity. Remus shrunk before his penetrating glare, feeling surprisingly small before the other man.

"This is _ my gallery _, Potter! You can't tell me what to do!"

"Sirius, you're _ embarrassing _ yourself," James growled, stepping towards the gallery owner. "There are people here. _ Act professional. _ You and Remus need to go into your office and sort this _ shit _ out, do you understand me?"

Sirius looked like he was deliberating, considering his retort, before he changed his mind and turned around in a huff. He marched himself straight to the gallery office and Remus dutifully followed, feeling like a child that had just been scolded. 

Once the two of them were in the office, James stuck his head through the door.

"If this isn't settled by the time the show opens, so help me—"

"_ Yes _, James," Sirius grumbled, acting more like James' son than his brother. 

James left Remus and Sirius alone in the office, closing the door behind him. Once they were by themselves, Sirius turned to Remus, glaring at him expectantly. 

"_ Well _?"

"Well _ what _ ?" Remus snapped angrily. He was tired of Sirius playing games with him. He understood that he did something wrong, but the gallery owner had _ no _ right to provoke him and try to draw a reaction. "You're the one who came up to _ me _!"

Sirius crossed his arms and let out a _ pfft _ while rolling his eyes.

"I was just making sure that you knew not to get drunk this evening, so as to not repeat _ past mistakes. _"

"Fuck _ off _!" Remus yelled, forgetting himself for a moment and allowing his frustration to take over. "You know what? Yeah! I thought we hooked up while I was drunk! Is that such an absurd thought?! Is it really so farfetched that I thought I had sex with you?!"

Sirius looked taken aback. 

"Yes, Remus! You were _ drunk! _" He was clearly upset, his pale skin turning a bright shade of red across his cheeks and ears.

"So _ what?! _ " Remus shouted, finally putting words to the feelings that had been boiling up inside of him. "I thought we fucked! I've spent the past three weeks thinking about it, of _ course _ I'd assume that Drunk Remus would act on it!"

Sirius' mouth was hanging open. He blinked. 

"You…" 

Sirius was at a loss for words. Remus rolled his eyes and continued his tirade.

"Yeah. There it is. The whole damn truth. Pathetic little Remus had feelings for Sirius! Laugh it up! Tell me how stupid it is that someone like me could even _ fathom _ being with someone like you! I know it's insane! I _ get _ that! And I know I'm an idiot for thinking it could actually happen! And I'm _ sorry _ ! I'm _ sorry _ that I thought we had sex! I'm sorry it felt like I thought you were a bad person! I didn't. I just assumed that… maybe… I just…"

Remus cut himself off. What did he assume?

"... you're not an idiot." Sirius muttered, his eyes drifting down slightly.

"Shut _ up _ , Sirius! Just… _ shut up _ ! I don't need your _ pity _ ! I don't need everyone's pity! I don't need people feeling bad for the pathetic artist who isn't good enough to make it on his own!" Remus didn't even know what he was yelling about at this point, he was just _ yelling _. He was getting all of his feelings out, the ones that didn't fit into his paintings, and he seemed to have broken the damn. 

"I don't think you're pathetic..." 

"God _ dammit _ , Sirius! I just… I thought maybe… just _ maybe _ … there was a chance that… that you liked me too. _ That's _ why I assumed we had sex. I just… part of me… and it's so stupid, I _ know _ that. I _ see _ that now. I just didn't realize it at the time."

"... you're not stupid." 

Remus stared at Sirius, completely floored. What was Sirius playing at? A moment ago, he had been inexplicably rude to Remus. Why would his tune change so suddenly?

"Don't _ patronize _ me! Don't you think you've made me feel _ bad enough _?! I never meant to accuse you of anything! It was a mistake!"

"...I know."

Remus stopped. He stared open-mouthed at the man before him, whose face was crestfallen and… guilty?

"You _ know _?! Yesterday you yelled at me about this!"

"I didn't know yesterday. But… I get it now."

"What are you _ talking _ about?!" 

"I— I hadn't realized…" Sirius looked up at Remus, stormy grey eyes clouded with remorse. He looked lost, sincere, authentically apologetic. Remus felt his breath catch in his chest as he stared into Sirius' eyes, remembering their night together talking in the gallery. It had been so _ honest _ — a different side to Sirius that rarely came out. 

"What hadn't you realized, Sirius?" Remus' voice was quivering. He was still upset, but he wasn't shouting. He didn't feel like he needed to yell anymore in order to be heard.

"I— I didn't know that you— that you wanted— " Sirius' body moved forward the slightest amount, an infinitesimally small step that brought their two worlds that much closer together. "I didn't realize that you had feelings for me."

"Fuck _ off _ ," Remus swore, rolling his eyes. "Of course you knew. You've spent the past few weeks shamelessly flirting with me! Only now I realize that I was just a _ plaything _ for you." Remus didn't notice how harsh his words were until he saw the hurt painted across Sirius' features. "Is— isn't that what you were doing?"

"I… I flirted with you because I _ liked _ you, Remus… I just assumed you…" Sirius eyes flickered away for just a moment. "You never flirted back, I just assumed you weren't interested."

Remus stared at Sirius, confusion written across his face.

"The _ fuck _ ? Sirius, you're… you're the _ gallery owner _ . Of course I couldn't— I just— what the _ hell _ is going on?" The artist ran a hand through his curls, trying to think, trying to sort out the past few weeks in his mind. "Then what was that out there?" He gestured wildly towards the rest of the gallery. "What the hell was _ that _?"

"I was _ mad _ , Remus! I thought… I thought you had _ blamed _ me! I thought that _ you _ thought that I took advantage of you!" Sirius scrunched his face up in frustration— still looking surprisingly attractive— before brushing his bangs away from his eyes. "I was mad when you left and assumed we did it because I thought _ you _ thought the worst of me. I was _ hurt _."

"I _ told _ you—"

"I know! I just… it never crossed my mind that… that you thought we hooked up because it was something you _ wanted _ to do… it just… never occurred to me that— that you'd even _ want _to!"

"Of _ course _ I'd fucking want to…" Remus mumbled before he caught himself. " _ Shit… _ I mean… not that… I just—"

Before Remus could explain to the gallery owner why he just admitted to wanting to have sex with him, Sirius was suddenly there, in front of Remus, raising a hand to brush an errant curl from the artist's eyes. Remus blinked up into swirling blues and greys, wondering what the hell happened in the last few minutes that caused this.

"Sirius, I—"

"Remus…" Sirius muttered, barely audibly, the name lilting off his tongue. The pad of Sirius' thumb grazed Remus' cheek, an almost imperceptible touch of skin on skin. "Remus, I fancy you. I have for a while now. And I probably should have told you sooner."

"B— but…" Remus stammered, trying to make sense of everything. "But you were so _ mean _ out there… and— and— and you were so _ mad _ at me!"

"I was an idiot. I didn't think someone as perfect as you could ever care about someone as broken as me. And I built up barriers between us... I am _ so _ sorry."

Sirius' voice was tender, affectionate, paired with such an earnest gleam in his eyes. Remus felt himself melting before Sirius' smouldering gaze, felt the wall between them finally shatter. 

"I'm not perfect…" Remus mumbled. It was all he could think to say in response.

"_ I want to kiss you… _ " Sirius' words were barely a whisper, and Remus' heart was racing. His mind flashed back to the previous weekend, the feeling of Sirius' lips against his own, the way their mouths moved. Remus _ wanted _this, more than anything, but he felt a tug in his stomach. The voice in his head was warning him against this, reminding him of their dynamic, of gallery owner and artist. Sirius was in a position of power over him, and yet… 

Sirius hadn't moved. He was waiting for Remus to respond. He refused to act on anything without Remus' express consent. 

Remus closed his eyes and closed the gap, pressing his lips into Sirius'. He felt Sirius' hand cup his face, the other one weaving around his body. He felt Sirius' lips moving in sync with his own. Remus could have sworn that he was floating, his feet lifting off the ground. He felt fireworks in his stomach, exploding and crackling and causing a ruckus so loud, he was sure Sirius could hear it. 

This was _ exactly _ where Remus wanted to be— where he wanted to spend the rest of his life— right there in Sirius' arms.

_ Knock knock knock. _

Remus almost yelped, he was so startled. He immediately pulled away from Sirius, breaking their connection and the magic that tied them together. The expression on Sirius' face told Remus that he was equally as surprised and dismayed. 

"I don't hear yelling. Should I be happy, or is one of you dead?"

Sirius cleared his throat and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. 

"N— No one's dead, Potter. Don't worry." He turned to Remus and offered a sheepish smile before straightening himself up and adjusting his tie. "I think… I think things are worked out."

Sirius gave one last glance over to Remus, who was still standing there, mouth agape, wondering what was going on. Sirius reached out and gently brushed his fingers against Remus' arm, offering the artist a timid grin filled with emotion. Then, as if transforming into a different person altogether, Sirius turned around and threw his Gallery Owner smile onto his face. 

Sirius opened the door and nodded at James, who was waiting just outside of the office. 

"Not to worry, Potter. Remus has assured me that this misunderstanding won't happen again."

The artist stood in the office for a moment, briefly considering staying there all night. He shook his head out, rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms, and took a page from Sirius' book. The man who emerged from the office was Artist Remus: feigning confidence and ready to perform the song and dance required of him to sell his work. 


	29. Chapter 29

Remus Lupin was standing in the middle of a gallery that was hosting _ his _ art show. 

This was something he had always dreamed of, but never expected to actually happen. There he was, in _ Black and White _, with his paintings on the wall, each with a price tag next to it. Better than that, there were art collectors and consultants roaming about, viewing this work, considering them for purchase. This was everything Remus had ever wanted.

Why, then, was his mind focused on something entirely different?

As Remus shook hands with wealthy people and smiled professionally at them, his only thought was of his kiss with Sirius. It was tender and intimate, with Sirius' hands holding him, finger tips tangling through his curls.

Every once in a while, Sirius would approach Remus, his Gallery Owner Grin plastered to his face. For all intents and purposes, it felt like a professional dynamic— then Sirius' hand would surreptitiously graze the small of Remus' back, gently guiding him towards something or someone. Was that normal? Did Sirius always place his hand on the small of people's backs? Was his smile always accompanied with that rosy glow of his cheeks? Did his eyes always sparkle that much?

At some point during the evening, Lily caught Remus on his own, approaching him and giving him a tight embrace. 

"Congratulations, Remus. This is an amazing turnout! And people keep saying how much they love your art! You should be so proud of yourself!"

"Heh… thanks, Lily," Remus responded, tearing his eyes off of Sirius, who was standing next to Dorcas and laughing. "And… you too. Your art is also beautiful. I've heard Dorcas is considering buying something for one of their clients."

Lily beamed at Remus, bright red lips parted joyfully. 

"Thanks, Remus! Yeah, they talked to me about commissioning some stuff. It's pretty exciting!" Lily paused, looking at Remus expectantly, raising a delicate eyebrow. 

"_ What _?" Remus asked pointedly, trying to keep a straight face. "You clearly want to say something. Spit it out!"

Lily's ivory cheeks flushed as she glanced behind her shoulder at Sirius before turning back to the other artist.

"He seems to be in good spirits..." 

"So he does."

"Remus, what _ happened _? You two were arguing and now… you haven't taken your eyes off of him all night!"

Remus shifted his gaze away from the gallery owner, who he just _ happened _ to be looking at. He brushed his hair from his eyes, trying to detract from the blush that was spreading across his cheeks. 

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Lily."

"Mhmm…" She clearly didn't believe him.

"Look, we'll get coffee tomorrow, okay? For now, I have to concentrate on being…" Remus gestured to himself, as if he was wearing some sort of costume and had to ensure that he was acting the part. 

Lily leaned in to give Remus a kiss on the cheek and a squeeze of the arm. She pulled away and winked at him.

"It's a date. We'll talk tomorrow."

As Lily glided away, Remus felt a hand press firmly on his shoulder. He turned around and grinned at James, who looked completely and utterly satisfied with himself.

"Glad you fixed it," he said, his eyes lingering on the lithe silhouette of his wife. "'Cause I was ready to hit someone."

"I'm glad you didn't," Remus responded with a chuckle. "My face is far too fragile."

"I never said it would be _ you _…" James put his arm over Remus' shoulder and tugged him closer, causing the artist to stumble slightly. James was quite a bit stronger than he let on. "So!" He continued cheerfully. "You haven't introduced me to your friends or family yet! Which of these guests are yours?"

Remus shrugged nonchalantly, trying not to let the sudden heaviness in his heart ruin the mood. 

"I didn't invite anyone."

"What?!" James pulled away from Remus, placing a hand firmly on each of the artist's shoulders and bending down to look him straight in the eyes. Remus stared straight ahead, his mind focusing on the deep, ruddy brown of James' cheeks, the velvety darkness in his eyes. "Why didn't you invite anyone?! This is your first art show, Remus! You should be celebrating! Your family should be here with you! Or your friends! Someone!"

Remus steeled himself, trying not to show any of his anxiety on his face. He thought of painting, he thought of colours, he focused on the man in front of him. James' colours always reminded Remus of autumn, with their warm glows and subtle orange undertones. Autumn and summer— that was James and Lily.

"My friends _ are _ here," Remus managed to choke out, trying not to get emotional. "And I'm so glad that you guys came."

Remus was losing his resolve as he watched James' dark brown eyes fill with tears. James scooped Remus into a bear hug, squeezing tighter than the artist thought possible.

"We love you, Remus. So much." James' voice was muffled in Remus' shoulder, but the artist managed to make out the words. He patted James on the back, glancing over to Lily pleadingly, hoping for some kind of explanation.

"I...uh… I love you guys, too? Thanks James…"

James pulled away and held Remus' arms at his side.

"I'm so honoured to be your friend, and I'm thrilled that I get to celebrate this with you."

"Uh… right back at you, James…"

"James, honey!" Lily appeared out of nowhere, placing a gentle hand on her husband's shoulder and offering Remus an apologetic look. "Let's let Remus mingle with the other guests. He has some art to sell!"

"Yes, yes! We'll see you later, Remus. Good luck!"

James and Lily departed, leaving Remus stunned in the middle of the gallery. Just as he was about to go to the bar to grab himself a drink, he was approached by someone he hadn't met before.

"Remus, is it?"

"Yes?" The artist smiled at the stranger and held out his hand. He was used to the routine by this point in the evening. "And you are?"

"Caradoc. Dearborn. Pleasure to meet you."

Caradoc's grip was surprisingly firm as he shook Remus' hand. He was a large man, taller and broader than Sirius, and he held himself with confidence. He had beautifully dark skin, emphasized by the contrast to the bleach blonde of his closely shaved hair. When he smiled, gleaming white teeth showed and his rich brown eyes glimmered with excitement. Caradoc had round cheeks and a chiseled jawline, classically handsome features that Remus' heart responded to with a few sporadic _ thumps _. 

"Likewise," Remus mumbled, lost in the woodsy colours that made up Caradoc's irises, and the smokey scent of his cologne. 

"Figured I should introduce myself to London's next big thing. I want to be in your good books for when you're famous!" He accompanied his grand statements with a cheeky wink.

"Oh, I don't know about that," Remus said casually, trying to remain modest despite the flattering words. "This is still my first show."

"And what a show it is!" Caradoc motioned around him, his arms spread wide in a bold gesture. "Look at everyone! They can't take their eyes off of your art! I've already heard talk from the owner of a second show!"

"Have you now?" Remus raised an eyebrow and glanced over to the spot where Sirius stood, chatting to a group of wealthy socialites. "I hadn't heard that from him."

"Well," Caradoc continued with an almost wicked gleam in his eyes. "If your next show isn't _ here _, you should definitely consider showing elsewhere. It'd be a sincere pity if you didn't continue to ride the wave of your success." Caradoc pulled out a card from the inside of his jacket and leaned in close to Remus to slide it into his breast pocket, giving it a pat for good measure. "If you do feel like showing elsewhere… or just want to discuss the future of your art career…"

He gave Remus another wink and disappeared into the crowd, leaving Remus standing in stunned silence.

Was this really happening? Were other galleries propositioning Remus? Was this show exactly what he needed to kickstart his career?

Remus was so excited by the prospect that he nearly spun around right into Sirius Black, who held his hands out to catch a potentially falling artist.

"Oh, hello, Remus…"

"Hello…" Remus tore his eyes from Sirius', trying not to get lost in their depths. He knew he was blushing, but he couldn't help himself. He felt Sirius' grip tighten slightly on his arm as the gallery owner leaned in closer.

"The show is going wonderfully. You should be proud of yourself."

"I am," Remus mumbled, staring at the pair of lips mounted on the wall and desperately not thinking about Sirius'. "Tonight has been… amazing."

"It's not over yet…"

Remus didn't have a chance to ask Sirius what _ exactly _ he was implying before another guest approached the two of them and began discussing Remus' work. 

The entire evening had been a whirlwind thus far, and Remus just had to remain afloat as the rippling crowd tugged him this way and that. It would be over soon, and he would finally have a moment to himself to decompress and wrap his mind around everything that had happened. 


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday, Remus. ;)
> 
> This one’s for you!

By the time the last guests began to trickle out of the gallery and the serving staff were cleaning up, Remus was exhausted. It had been a long evening, filled with emotion and excitement. He couldn't remember the last time he had met so many new people or shaken so many hands. 

The artist wasn't sure if any of his pieces had sold— those transactions would most likely be completed the next day— but he had a sneaking suspicion that he wouldn't be struggling to make rent this month. Everyone who spoke to him sang his praises, and Remus let himself believe, if only for a moment, that they weren't just saying that because it was his show. 

Remus felt a hand on the small of his back and he looked up to find Sirius smiling down at him. The gallery owner had an unusual look in his eyes, soft and gentle, a smile reserved just for Remus. 

"Good job today, Remus."

"Thanks…" It was all the artist could manage to get out as he thought about how much he wanted to lean into Sirius' touch. 

"Hey Remus… I— I think we should talk…" Sirius must have noticed the fear on Remus' face, because he broke into a smile and leaned closer. "Don't look so terrified! We should just… talk about what happened earlier… you know?"

The way Sirius' thumb rubbed circles along Remus' back was reassuring and the artist smiled up at the gallery owner.

"Yeah, okay… we can talk."

"Remus, do you need a ride home?" Lily interrupted the moment as she walked towards the two of them, James trailing closely behind her.

"Nah, I'll take him home tonight, Lils," Sirius grinned. After a pause, he realized what he had said and hurriedly tried to correct himself. "_ Drive _ him home. To _ his _home. I'll drive him back to his place. Obviously."

"_ Obviously _." The smirk on Lily's lips told Remus that she didn't believe a word Sirius was saying. "Well, goodnight boys. Don't… do anything I wouldn't do."

Remus shot Lily a _ look _, which was met with a playful laugh. She rolled her eyes as she turned around and looped her arm through her husband's. 

"Goodnight, Potters!" Sirius called out as they walked out the door. Finally, after the longest evening of Remus' life, he and Sirius were alone at last. 

"So…" Remus began awkwardly.

"So…" Sirius repeated, equally as awkward. 

Remus took a tiny step towards Sirius, feeling his heart begin to beat faster, thrumming erratically in his chest. 

"So… you wanted to talk…" he mumbled, staring up into the mercurial pools of Sirius' eyes.

"Yeah…" Sirius muttered in return, taking a step forward himself. "Talk…"

Remus could have sworn that Sirius' face was getting closer. Or perhaps he was moving in towards Sirius. Either way, it didn't matter. By the time Remus realized what was happening, his lips were mere inches away from Sirius', the two men breathing together, neither one ready to close the gap. There was a stillness in the air, a tension so thick and palpable that Remus could practically taste it. 

Remus closed his eyes. He knew it would have to be him to initiate things. Remus leaned forward and his lips met with Sirius', feeling the electricity coursing through his body. Sirius mirrored Remus' actions, drawing their bodies closer together. Remus felt his hands rise of their own accord, weaving through Sirius' hair and tangling themselves in his locks. Sirius' hands were on Remus' hips, then around his back, moving and touching more tenderly than the artist thought possible. 

As Remus pulled away from the kiss, it felt as if Sirius had stolen the breath from his lungs. He was panting, his heart racing, and he was speechless in his enamoured state. 

"Hi…" Sirius breathed, his nose grazing lightly against Remus'.

"Hey…" Remus responded, rubbing the back of Sirius' neck with his thumb. 

Sirius closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against Remus'. 

"God… you're making it very hard to hold myself back right now, you know that?"

The words surged through Remus' veins, settling deep in the pit of his stomach, causing him to stir. He pulled his head away from Sirius and looked the man dead in the eyes, keeping his gaze as steady as he could manage. 

"What if I don't want you to hold back?"

It was a challenge, one he hoped Sirius would take him up on.

The smirk that spread across Sirius' thin lips, making its way to his eyes, told Remus that he was up for the task. 

In one swift motion, Sirius scooped Remus up and pressed him against the gallery wall, between two of his own paintings. Strong hands held Remus' thighs firmly, supporting his weight with the help of the wall. Remus immediately reached for Sirius' hair, weaving his hands through the inky strands, and pressing a forceful kiss into Sirius' lips. 

Remus was caught up in the heady, intense passion of the moment, the colours of Sirius mingling with his own. He could feel Sirius' teeth bite gently into his lower lip, Sirius' tongue exploring his mouth, Sirius' fingers digging into his thighs. 

"Sirius, I think I forgot my sca— oh _ shit… _"

Sirius hastily pulled away and nearly dropped Remus as he put him down. He stared at James, who had just walked into the gallery, his mouth hanging open awkwardly. Remus' eyes immediately dropped to the floor as he prayed for the sweet release of death.

"I… did not expect this…" James said, shifting his weight from foot to foot, his eyes darting between Remus and Sirius.

"You're telling me," Sirius muttered, staring at his friend, unable to look away.

"How… uh… how long has _ this _ been going on?" James waved his hand at the two other men, as if he couldn't define what he was witnessing.

"Uh… not… long?" Sirius' eyes narrowed as he stared at James. "Can you… uh… can you please _ leave _?"

"Oh! Yes! Right!" James ran a hand through his hair, instinctively mussing it up. "Yes… well… I'll let you two get on with… whatever this is…"

"_ Go! _" Sirius shouted, causing James to scramble towards the front door.

"James, what's taking so long?" Lily's voice echoed from in front of the gallery. 

"_ Out _ , Lils. We'll talk _ outside _."

"_ Fuck, _" Sirius swore, glancing down at Remus. "That was…"

"Yeah…" Remus responded, still focusing his attention on his shoes. 

They heard the heavy wooden doors slam shut and the two men were enveloped with an uncomfortable silence that lingered a little too long. 

"This…" Sirius took a step away and brushed his bangs from his eyes. "This is probably a good thing… we should… probably talk about stuff…"

"Yeah…" Remus refused to look up, wishing a hole would open up in the ground and suck him in, away from this moment. He felt a hand on his face, a thumb rubbing gently against his cheek. 

"Remus… it's okay…" Remus raised his eyes to meet Sirius', melting slightly from their smouldering heat. "Let's… sit down in the office."

Sirius pulled his hand away, sliding it down to meet with Remus' lower back, gently guiding him towards the gallery office. Once they were inside, Sirius sat down in his desk chair and motioned for Remus to sit on the small couch, so that the two men could face each other. 

It felt eerily like a meeting between two professionals, and Remus couldn't help but think back to his very first time in that office, being interviewed by Sirius and going through his portfolio. 

"So…" Sirius began, sitting tall and crossing his fingers in his lap. Remus had the distinct impression that he was being interviewed again.

"So…" Remus repeated, starting to get tired of the same back and forth. "You wanted to talk?"

"Yes, well…" Sirius looked down into his lap for a moment. "I'm sorry. Again. About before." He glanced back up at Remus, his eyes searching for something. "I do fancy you. Obviously. It may not have come across that way before and I just… wanted to make that clear."

Remus felt his cheeks grow hot as he bit his lower lip nervously. It was nice to hear aloud how Sirius felt about him.

"I… uh… I fancy you, too," he mumbled to his hands, knowing how ridiculous he must look; he wasn't great at intimate moments or sharing his feelings. From Sirius' discomfort, he gathered that it was just as challenging for the gallery owner.

Remus looked up at Sirius, who was practically beaming, and he gave a shy grin in return. This was a good start to their conversation. Unfortunately, there was still something on Remus' mind that had been bugging him all evening, and before they could begin anything between the two of them, the artist knew he needed to clear the air. 

"Um… Sirius… can— can we talk about— about how you _ reacted _?"

Sirius broke eye contact and looked away, reminding Remus of a puppy who knew he had done something wrong. 

"Look…" Remus started again, gathering his courage and sitting up straight. "When you got angry at me for assuming that we hooked up…"

"I'm sorry."

"I know, I just…" Remus took a deep breath and steadied himself. This would be the make-or-break of their conversation. Sirius' reaction here would tell Remus whether or not there was any possibility of a relationship between the two of them. "Sirius… you need to know… even if I _ hadn't _ wanted to be with you… even if the situation was different… waking up in someone else's bed with no recollection of the night before is _ terrifying _ . And I understand that you didn't like that I thought we slept together, but… but it wasn't _ about _ you."

Sirius furrowed his brow, confusion passing over his face.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean… I had every right to be anxious. I snuck out and avoided you because… yeah… sometimes it happens. Sometimes you're at a party and someone _ does _take advantage of you. And…I'd honestly rather be safe than sorry."

It was a difficult thing for Remus to talk about, particularly with Sirius. The gallery owner had a trusted group of friends who always looked out for him; he had James and Lily, who were practically his parents. Remus had never had that before—he had been on his own and fended for himself for a long time, and he knew that he needed to be cautious, no matter what. 

"I get that— " Sirius began, before Remus cut him off.

"Do you? You seemed so angry at me before… I just…" Remus closed his eyes, reminding himself to breathe, ignoring the tightness in his chest. "You need to know that the way you acted wasn't the right response. You should have been… understanding. _ Kind _ . Instead of making me feel awful for hurting your feelings, you should have put yourself in my shoes… you should have realized how hard it is to _ not know _ where you are or how you got there."

"You're right,” Sirius sighed, looking slightly defeated and entirely apologetic. “You're so right, Remus. My reaction was…"

"Childish?"

"I was going to say immature. But… yes. It was. I don't… I never… I've never really… _ been _ through this… _ any _ of this. Dealing with feelings and people and shit. And I liked you and it… scared me." 

Remus watched as Sirius struggled with his words, trying to verbalize something that had been suppressed inside for so long. 

"I get that,” Remus offered, making sure to sound understanding. “I really do. And I know that you didn't exactly have good examples of healthy communication growing up… I just… this is something we should work on. _ Communication. _"

There was a pause as Sirius looked up at Remus, his brows raised and mouth agape.

"_ We _ should work on?"

Remus realized what he said and immediately regretted it. He had presumed too much. He had thought, with all the kissing and the gentle touching and the closeness of the evening—perhaps there was a chance that what was going on between himself and Sirius could turn into something _ more _. 

"_ You _. Sorry…" He corrected himself, trying to sound casual and relaxed. 

"No, no… I… I really love the idea of working on it with you. _ Us _ . _ Together _. I… I want that." 

Sirius was fumbling over his words and Remus found it so endearing, his heart sang in his chest. He reached out a hand and placed it gingerly on top of Sirius’, offering the gallery owner a sincere smile. 

“I’d… like that too.”

Sirius returned the smile. 

“Good. Yes… Let’s… I mean…” Sirius closed his eyes tightly, as if he was gathering his thoughts, before opening them and continuing. “If this is something that’s going to happen… and… I very much want it to… I just… I think we should set out some ground rules. Before we continue. You know?”

“I agree.” 

“For one thing, Remus…” Sirius inhaled sharply, tilting his chin up. “We have to make sure that our working relationship isn’t affected by… any of this. Business is business. Whatever happens between us— or _ doesn’t _ happen— we need to promise each other that any and all professional decisions are not affected by that.”

“Absolutely,” Remus agreed, nodding his head fervently. He remembered how terrified he was that he almost lost his chance at showing in _ Black and White _ because of his personal challenges with the gallery owner. “One hundred percent.”

“Good. And that… that applies to both of us. If… if this doesn’t end up working… if something happens… We have to make sure that our working relationship won’t be destroyed. No… ruining each other’s careers…”

“I would never—“ Remus began, before realizing that Sirius was probably not talking about him. “Right. Yes. Of course...”

“I also want to keep things… out of the public eye. If… that’s possible.” Sirius glanced down nervously. “It’s not that I’m ashamed. I’m not. I just… I don’t want anyone to assume you got to where you are because of nepotism.”

“Oh…” That was something Remus hadn’t considered. He appreciated that Sirius was looking out for him. “Right. Yes… I… thanks, yeah. Okay. We keep it under wraps.”

“Also… We should probably keep things… _ out _ of the gallery…” 

Remus watched as Sirius’ pale cheeks began to turn a bright shade of pink and he couldn’t help himself. 

“Except for when you _ fuck _ me in here, right?” Sirius looked like he nearly choked on his own tongue as he sputtered in response. Remus threw his head back and let out a deep chuckle. “I’m _ kidding _, Sirius! Bloody hell!”

“_ Right _. Yes. Of… of course. Yes. I… I knew that.”

Remus rolled his eyes and got to his feet, taking a step forward to close the gap between the two of them. He was standing in front of Sirius, their knees touching, looking down into bright pools of molten silver. He lifted a hand up, brushing a strand of charcoal hair out of Sirius’ eyes. 

“Enough ground rules. Let’s just… See what happens, yeah?”

Contrary to what most people thought of him, Remus was never really a planner, and sitting down and making rules for his own relationship seemed excessive. He just wanted to be _ present _, to enjoy what he had, to see where things would take him. Especially when it came to Sirius. 

Sirius blinked, gazing up at Remus. 

“Yeah… alright… Let’s do that.”


	31. Chapter 31

“Tell me _everything_!”

Remus smiled up at Lily, who was sitting across the table, almost vibrating with excitement. Long, delicate fingers were wrapped around a coffee mug and an expectant grin was plastered to her face. The artist rolled his eyes at her and leaned back in his seat. He was planning to take his time with this; he quite enjoyed making Lily antsy with anticipation.

“Well…” he began languidly, giving an indifferent shrug. “James practically _shoved_ us into the office to get us to talk…”

“Yeah, I know _that_ part!” Lily responded with a pout. “_Details_, Remus! Let me live vicariously through you!”

Remus chuckled at his friend and took a sip of tea.

“Well,” he continued after a pregnant pause. “We talked. And then we _kissed_…”

“I _knew_ it!” Lily shouted with a grin, leaning forward in her seat and jabbing an accusatory finger towards Remus. “I _knew_ something happened in there! You two were making _googly eyes_ at each other all night!”

“I do not make _googly eyes_, Lily,” Remus protested, pretending to be affronted. “I’m a _professional_.”

“_Please_. There’s no point denying it, you’re absolutely smitten!”

Remus simply shrugged in response, but he couldn’t keep himself from blushing. She was right, after all— Remus was enamoured.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he lied with a smug grin.

“Whatever. The story’s not over. Tell me _more_!”

“_Fine_!” Remus gave an exaggerated sigh, as if he wasn’t loving every single moment of this interrogation. “Well, you guys left the gallery… and… uh…” Remus’ mind drifted momentarily to the previous evening, when Sirius had him pressed against the wall. The artist felt his stomach twist in excitement and shook the thought from his mind before his face betrayed him.

“Oooh, _yes_!” Lily let out a giggle, wiggling her shoulders happily. “James said he interrupted you two having a _moment_. Was it as bad as he made it sound?”

“Depends on what he told you…”

“He said you two were all over each other!”

Remus felt his cheeks grow hot and ran a hand through his curls.

“I mean… we weren’t having _sex_ or anything…” He said sheepishly, earning himself a high-pitched squeal from his friend.

“So you _were_ all over each other? Did he really lift you up against the wall?”

“_Anyway_,” Remus decided that this was an excellent time to continue his story and stop dwelling on details. “After James came into the gallery— ”

“_Remus_!”

“ — we decided that _talking_ was probably a good idea.”

“Ugh, you’re such a spoil sport!”

Remus gave Lily’s foot a little kick beneath the table before continuing.

“_Anyway_. We talked about stuff… about how he was kind of a dick before…”

“_Good_. He needed to hear that.”

“And about… ground rules that needed to be in place if we… wanted this to be a _thing_…”

“Oh my god! So are you two officially _dating_ now?!”

“Uh… yeah, we are. We're… a couple, I guess?” Remus buried his face in his hands. “It’s so weird to say aloud!”

“Oh my god, I’m _so_ happy for you guys! This is _amazing_! God, Sirius has had a huge crush on you for _so long_!”

“Wait, what?” Remus blinked at Lily and furrowed his brow. “He _has_?”

Lily’s eyes widened slightly as she realized her mistake.

“Oh… he… didn’t tell you? Crap, I shouldn’t have said anything…”

“How long?”

“Just ignore me! Pretend I didn’t say anything!”

“_How long_, Lily?!”

“Since the beginning! Like… first time he laid eyes on you, I could see it. He was head over heels!”

“Why didn’t you _say_ anything!”

“I do not _meddle_, Remus!”

“_Liar_! You’re such a meddler!”

Lily let out a giggle, as Remus nudged her with his foot.

“_Anyway_, what happened next, Remus?! The story’s not over!”

The artist shrugged, trying to recall the rest of the evening.

“No, that’s about it… he drove me home. We chatted a bit in the car… he called me his _boyfriend_, which was nice…” Remus couldn’t keep the stupid grin off his face as he talked about Sirius. “And… uh… we kissed a bit… and then I left. He was a perfect gentleman. He said something about wanting to go on a date first before _anything else_…”

“Oh my god, Remus! I can’t believe you didn’t shag him senseless. You have _far_more self control than I do!”

“I mean, I dropped hints… I just… I guess he wanted to wait. I don’t want to _pressure_ him into anything.”

“Oh, _trust me_. He wants this as badly as you do…”

“Okay, shut up. That’s my _boyfriend_ you’re talking about.”

Lily let out another squeal, garnering looks from other patrons of the cafe. She didn’t seem to care, she was so lost in the thrill of Remus’ love life.

“Why do you want to hear so much about this, huh?” Remus teased.

“Remus, I’ve been married for three years, and exclusive with James for _six_. So forgive me if I’m excited over blossoming romance! I haven’t gotten to feel that in so _long_!”

“But… you and James are _happy_… right?”

“Of course! That doesn’t mean I don’t miss it. Yeah, I love James. And yes, I plan to spend the rest of my life with just him, but that’s what love turns into: something safe and comfortable. There’s something to be said about new love… that thrill of kissing someone for the first time, of experiencing that excitement.” She leaned back in her chair and brushed a strand of auburn from her eyes. “Like I said, I’m living vicariously through you.”

Remus grinned at his friend.

“Happy to help,” he joked, sticking out his tongue. “So long as you don’t plan to _join_ us. No offense, but girls just aren’t my thing.”

It was Lily’s turn to kick Remus under the table, and the two of them burst into fits of laughter. Remus savoured the levity of the situation, vaguely recalling how stressed he had been twenty four hours earlier. Was it really possible that so much had changed in such a short amount of time?

“What’s up, Remus?”

The artist cocked his head to the side and looked at his friend.

“What do you mean?”

“You looked lost for a second. Everything okay?”

“Yeah… I was just…thinking to myself.” Remus took a sip of his tea, enjoying the rush of warmth coursing through him. “Things seemed so different this time yesterday…”

“Yeah…” Lily agreed, glancing down at her coffee mug. “I know what you mean.”

“I just… I hope things stay this way, you know? I hope it doesn’t change back just as quickly…”

“I don’t think it will…” Lily said, matter-of-factly. “I don’t know if things will always feel exactly this way, they usually don’t… but finding that happy medium… that balance in between… that’s what love is all about.”

Remus narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips.

“I never said I _loved_ him, Lily.”

“You know what I mean! I mean it’s not all… perfect or horrible. It’s not about being either ecstatic or miserable. There’s… Well, it’s all about those times in between. It’s about being comfortable and about working together through trials and complicated situations.”

Remus shrugged. Lily had a point, he just wasn’t sure if it applied to him.

“I suppose…”

“Look, just…” Lily let out a sigh… “You and Sirius are both so hot-headed. I love you guys I just… I think you should work on not being so… one way or the other. Find that place in the middle and stand your ground there. That’s where you’ll find the most happiness.”

“Place in the middle…” Remus repeated absently, wondering what Lily meant by that. “Got it.”

“Good. Now… let’s get ready to go. We need to see if anything of ours actually _sold_ last night! You ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be…” Remus smiled and rose from his seat, gathering his coat and scarf and bundling up. This would be his first time heading to his _boyfriend’s_ art gallery.


End file.
